Tread Softly Poem Rhyme Scheme

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In the courts of truth tread softly	A
Though your tread be firm and bold	B
Your steps may awaken echoes	C
Resounding through years untold	B
The trend of the age is onward	D
And you should not lag behind	E
If men's minds are bound with fetters	F
Perchance you may some unbind	E
	-
Our creed say you needs revising	G
In line with the growth of light	E
Be sure you have made real progress	H
Before you assume the right	E
By stroke of pen to unsettle	I
The faith of the long ago	J
For many who err in judgment	E
Stand fast to the truth they know	J
	-
You bring from the mine rare jewels	K
That you think the world should see	A
But perhaps their estimation	L
With your own may not agree	A
They may lack discrimination	L
And their worth may not discern	M
So polish them at your leisure	N
And give the world time to learn	M
	-
Before you dig up the old tree	A
That sheltered in ages past	E
The earth's noblest men and women	L
From the fury of the blast	E
See that your sapling is rooted	E
And no borer at its base	O
And its boughs both strong and spreading	G
To cover an erring race	O
	-
Bear down on the lever gently	A
Or the rock may be o'erturned	E
Or perchance your lever shattered	E
And little experience learned	E
Take time to adjust your fulcrum	P
Then thrust home your iron bar	Q
Bear down and the rock is lifted	E
Is lifted without a jar	Q
	-
Your views are perhaps exotic	R
Young shoots from a tropic brain	S
They need to be better rooted	E
To endure the wind and rain	S
You may well admire the markings	T
On each graceful stem and leaf	U
But if taken from the hot house	V
They will surely come to grief	U
	-
Before they have wholly perished	E
They may please admiring eyes	W
The old be thrown on the dunghill	A
To receive your floral prize	W
They adorn the porch and window	E
And brighten the wayside bed	E
But we waken some summer morning	G
To find our new treasures dead	E
	-
'Tis better to make haste slowly	A
Than to antedate your day	E
The farmer waits for the sunshine	X
To transmute the grass to hay	E
When the fields are ripe for harvest	E
Fear neither the heat or rain	S
But thrust in your sharpened sickle	A
And gather the golden grain	S

Joseph Horatio Chant

Tread Softly Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis

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