The Passion Poem Rhyme Scheme

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I	A
	-
Ere while of Musick and Ethereal mirth	B
Wherwith the stage of Ayr and Earth did ring	C
And joyous news of heav'nly Infants birth	B
My muse with Angels did divide to sing	C
But headlong joy is ever on the wing	C
In Wintry solstice like the shortn'd light	D
Soon swallow'd up in dark and long out living night	D
	-
II	A
	-
For now to sorrow must I tune my song	E
And set my Harpe to notes of saddest wo	F
Which on our dearest Lord did sease er'e long	E
Dangers and snares and wrongs and worse then so	F
Which he for us did freely undergo	F
Most perfect Heroe try'd in heaviest plight	D
Of labours huge and hard too hard for human wight	D
	-
III	A
	-
He sov'ran Priest stooping his regall head	G
That dropt with odorous oil down his fair eyes	H
Poor fleshly Tabernacle entered	I
His starry front low rooft beneath the skies	H
O what a Mask was there what a disguise	H
Yet more the stroke of death he must abide	J
Then lies him meekly down fast by his Brethrens side	J
	-
IV	-
	-
These latter scenes confine my roving vers	K
To this Horizon is my Phoebus bound	L
His Godlike acts and his temptations fierce	M
And former sufferings other where are found	L
Loud o're the rest Cremona's Trump doth sound	L
Me softer airs befit and softer strings	N
Of Lute or Viol still more apt for mournful things	N
	-
V	-
	-
Befriend me night best Patroness of grief	-
Over the Pole thy thickest mantle throw	F
And work my flatterd fancy to belief	-
That Heav'n and Earth are colour'd with my wo	F
My sorrows are too dark for day to know	F
The leaves should all be black wheron I write	D
And letters where my tears have washt a wannish white	D
	-
VI	-
	-
See see the Chariot and those rushing wheels	O
That whirl'd the Prophet up at Chebar flood	P
My spirit som transporting Cherub feels	O
To bear me where the Towers of Salem stood	Q
Once glorious Towers now sunk in guiltles blood	P
There doth my soul in holy vision sit	R
In pensive trance and anguish and ecstatick fit	R
	-
VII	-
	-
Mine eye hath found that sad Sepulchral rock	S
That was the Casket of Heav'ns richest store	T
And here though grief my feeble hands up lock	S
Yet on the softned Quarry would I score	T
My plaining vers as lively as before	T
For sure so well instructed are my tears	U
They would fitly fall in order'd Characters	V
	-
VIII	-
	-
I thence hurried on viewles wing	C
Take up a weeping on the Mountains wilde	W
The gentle neighbourhood of grove and spring	C
Would soon unboosom all their Echoes milde	W
And I for grief is easily beguild	W
Might think th'infection of my sorrows bound	W
Had got a race of mourners on som pregnant cloud	W
	-
Note This subject the Author finding to be above the yeers he had	W
when he wrote it and nothing satisfi'd with what was begun	X
left it unfinish'd	W

John Milton

The Passion Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis

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