The Death Of Antoninus Pius Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis

Rhyme Scheme: ABCBBDED FGEGFHEH IJBJFKLK FMKMKNFN EOPOQKRK ESFSPTKT KUFUVWXW WKKKEWLW

Through the marble gates of OstiaA
Where the Tiber meets the seaB
And a hundred Roman galleysC
Strain their leashes to be freeB
Streams a flood of sunset gloryB
From the classic sea of oldD
Till Rome's seven hills stand gleamingE
And the Tiber turns to goldD
-
Why indifferent to this splendorF
Do the people throng the streetsG
What is everyone demandingE
Of the stranger whom he meetsG
They have heard alas the rumorF
That ere dawn regilds the skyH
All the world may be in mourningE
For the Emperor must dieH
-
Search O Romans through the annalsI
Of the rulers of your raceJ
From the zenith of their gloryB
To their ultimate disgraceJ
And as earth's most perfect masterF
And the noblest of your lineK
You will yield your greatest homageL
To this dying AntonineK
-
For he holds a Caesar's sceptreF
In a loving father's handM
And his heart and soul are givenK
To the welfare of his landM
Through his justice every nationK
Hath beheld its warfare ceaseN
And he leaves to his successorF
Rome's gigantic world at peaceN
-
Hence these nations now are waitingE
In an anguish of suspenseO
For their future is as doubtfulP
As their love for him intenseO
By the Nile and on the DanubeQ
From the Tagus to the RhineK
There is mourning among millionsR
For the man they deem divineK
-
Now the sunset glow is fadingE
And the evening shadows creepS
O'er the ashen face of CaesarF
As he lies in seeming sleepS
But he slumbers not for faithfulP
To his duties small and greatT
He is not alone the sovereignK
But the servant of the StateT
-
Unrebuked then his CenturionK
As the sun god sinks from sightU
Makes his wonted way to CaesarF
For the password of the nightU
And great Antonine though consciousV
That ere dawn his soul must passW
As his last imperial watchwordX
Utters AequanimitasW
-
O thou noblest of the CaesarsW
Whose transcendent virtues shineK
Like a glorious constellationK
O'er the blood stained PalatineK
When the latest sands are runningE
From my life's exhausted glassW
May I have thy calm and courageL
And thine AequanimitasW

John L. Stoddard



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