Sixth Sunday After Epiphany Poem Rhyme Scheme

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Beloved now are we the sons of God and it doth not yet appear	A
what we shall be but we know that when He shall appear we shall	B
be like Him for we shall see Him as he is St John iii	C
	-
	-
There are who darkling and alone	D
Would wish the weary night were gone	E
Though dawning morn should only show	F
The secret of their unknown woe	F
Who pray for sharpest throbs of pain	G
To ease them of doubt's galling chain	G
Only disperse the cloud they cry	H
And if our fate be death give light and let us die	H
	-
Unwise I deem them Lord unmeet	H
To profit by Thy chastenings sweet	H
For Thou wouldst have us linger still	I
Upon the verge of good or ill	I
That on Thy guiding hand unseen	J
Our undivided hearts may lean	J
And this our frail and foundering bark	K
Glide in the narrow wake of Thy beloved ark	K
	-
'Tis so in war the champion true	L
Loves victory more when dim in view	L
He sees her glories gild afar	M
The dusky edge of stubborn war	N
Than if the untrodden bloodless field	H
The harvest of her laurels yield	H
Let not my bark in calm abide	H
But win her fearless way against the chafing tide	H
	-
'Tis so in love the faithful heart	H
From her dim vision would not part	H
When first to her fond gaze is given	O
That purest spot in Fancy's heaven	O
For all the gorgeous sky beside	H
Though pledged her own and sure to abide	H
Dearer than every past noon day	H
That twilight gleam to her though faint and far away	H
	-
So have I seen some tender flower	P
Prized above all the vernal bower	P
Sheltered beneath the coolest shade	H
Embosomed in the greenest glade	H
So frail a gem it scarce may bear	Q
The playful touch of evening air	Q
When hardier grown we love it less	R
And trust it from our sight not needing our caress	R
	-
And wherefore is the sweet spring tide	H
Worth all the changeful year beside	H
The last born babe why lies its part	H
Deep in the mother's inmost heart	H
But that the Lord and Source of love	S
Would have His weakest ever prove	T
Our tenderest care and most of all	U
Our frail immortal souls His work and Satan's thrall	U
	-
So be it Lord I know it best	H
Though not as yet this wayward breast	H
Beat quite in answer to Thy voice	V
Yet surely I have made my choice	V
I know not yet the promised bliss	W
Know not if I shall win or miss	W
So doubting rather let me die	H
Than close with aught beside to last eternally	X
	-
What is the Heaven we idly dream	Y
The self deceiver's dreary theme	Y
A cloudless sun that softly shines	Z
Bright maidens and unfailing vines	Z
The warrior's pride the hunter's mirth	A2
Poor fragments all of this low earth	A2
Such as in sleep would hardly soothe	B2
A soul that once had tasted of immortal Truth	C2
	-
What is the Heaven our God bestows	D2
No Prophet yet no Angel knows	D2
Was never yet created eye	H
Could see across Eternity	X
Not seraph's wing for ever soaring	E2
Can pass the flight of souls adoring	E2
That nearer still and nearer grow	F
To the unapproached Lord once made for them so low	F
	-
Unseen unfelt their earthly growth	F2
And self accused of sin and sloth	F2
They live and die their names decay	H
Their fragrance passes quite away	H
Like violets in the freezing blast	H
No vernal steam around they cast	H
But they shall flourish from the tomb	G2
The breath of God shall wake them into odorous bloom	G2
	-
Then on the incarnate Saviour's breast	H
The fount of sweetness they shall rest	H
Their spirits every hour imbued	H
More deeply with His precious blood	H
But peace still voice and closed eye	H
Suit best with hearts beyond the sky	H
Hearts training in their low abode	H
Daily to lose themselves in hope to find their God	H

John Keble

Sixth Sunday After Epiphany Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis

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