The Seer Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis


WOULD I could waken numbers brighter sweeterA
Than is the lark's song in the cloud aboveB
Then would I tell you in befitting metreA
How much the Seer is worthy of your loveB
Shy sensitive is he and far from equalC
Unto the battle of material lifeD
He strives unheeded and too oft the sequelC
Unheeded falleth in the bitter strifeD
Averse to falsehood and pretences hollowE
Averse to slander cruelty and wrongF
He scorns the gilded car of pomp to followE
And underneath is trampled by the throngF
Too nobly strung of self to brook the mentionG
Too sweetly strung to give another painH
Too finely strung to pleasure in contentionG
He seeks within the meed he would obtainH
Unlike the crowd who never dare look inwardI
Lest they a hideous spectre there should meetJ
Would point to secret longings prompting sinwardJ
He looks within and finds a solace sweetJ
Ay in a conscience pure he sees a charmerA
A harper from whose harp such tones are hurl'dJ
They act as mighty spells as tested armourA
To shield him from the malice of the worldJ
'Go on brave heart ' he hears an anthem chantedJ
The distant echoes of that harp's weird tonesK
'Go on to thee a richer dower is grantedJ
Than that which gilds a hundred monarchs' thronesK
'Thou may'st be thrust aside and scorned and tauntedJ
As being a lunatic a knave or foolL
Thou hast within thy inner being plantedJ
A power that yet shall put the world to schoolL
'Thou rnay'st be destined here to tribulationG
Thy every pang shall prove a key by whichM
Thou shalt unlock some safe of the CreationG
And with its precious stores thy mind enrichM
'Illumined by that sun forever burningN
Deep in the centre of the inner spheresK
Thou shalt be gifted with the gift of learningN
What lieth hidden from thy mortal peersK
'In every planet in the midnight heavenG
In every hue doth in the rainbow blendJ
Shalt thou perceive a lore and meaning givenG
To very few on earth to comprehendJ
'The very flower upon the meadow blowingN
The very weed down trampled on the roadJ
Shall be to thee a priceless casquet glowingN
With glories hinting of the light of GodJ
'In every breezelet nay in the commotionG
Of raging winds in every streamlet clearO
Nay in the roaring of the mighty oceanG
Shalt thou hear sounds will gladden thee to hearP
'Thus shalt thou in the Universe externalC
The Universe internal read and soK
Possess what shall be to the weal eternalC
Of earth's benighted 'habitants to knowK
'The buried eons of the Past their historyQ
Still glows in characters that thou shalt readJ
And from the future thou shalt pluck its mysteryQ
And point the goal to where the moments leadJ
'Whatever thrills the heart with feelings preciousK
Whatever tends to cast the spirit downR
The deed delightful or the hint perniciousK
Shall claim withal in turn thy smile or frownR
'Remind shalt thou the soul aweary wearyQ
Even with the battle thou thyself hast foughtJ
How thro' deep failure and thro' toil uncheeryQ
Must every triumph worth his care be wroughtJ
'Nay even at the hest of a volitionG
Still still to highest purposes attunedJ
Shalt thou go forth a monarch and ambitionG
And evils many with thy glance confoundJ
''Woe ' black browed guilt shall cry and 'woe' andJ
Despair and desolation sisters sadJ
And for the hydra brood thou thus shalt banishS
Celestial Love shall make the spirit gladJ
'Uplifting them by slow yet sure gradationsK
From spheres inferne into the spheres superneG
Shalt thou thus prove a boon unto the nationsK
And in return a boon divine shalt earnG
'If not in monuments of brass or marbleC
Deep in men's spirits shall thy glory glowK
And little ones shall of the wonders warbleC
Accomplished by the wise man long agoK
'All this and more than this shall be thy guerdonG
The sense of having acted right ' So saysK
The happy echo of that harp's sweet burdenG
A certain Seraph in his bosom playsK
And this enableth the true seer everQ
To triumph tho' he falleth and to prayQ
That theirs like his may be a portion neverQ
Who plot and plan to take his life awayQ
Ah to the last his words and deeds are sweeterQ
Than is the lark's song in the cloud aboveB
And rare the bard could find befitting metreQ
To hymn the love we owe this child of LoveB

Joseph Skipsey


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