Unsuccess Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis
Rhyme Scheme: AABBC DEEFF G HHIIJ JKKLL G MMAANN MMBBOP| Not here O belov d not here let us part in the city but there | A |
| Out there where the storm can enfold us on the hills where its breast is made bare | A |
| Its breast that is rainy and cool as the fern that drips by the fall | B |
| In the luminous night of' the woodland where winds to the waters call | B |
| Not here O belov d not here but there out there in the storm | C |
| - | |
| The rush and the reel of the heavens the tem pest whose rapturous arm | D |
| Shall seize us and sweep us together resistless as passions seize men | E |
| Through the rocking world of the woodland with its multitude music and then | E |
| With the rain on our lips belov d in the heart of the night's wild hell | F |
| One last long kiss forever and forever and ever farewell | F |
| - | |
| II | G |
| - | |
| I am sick of the madness of men of the boot less struggle and strife | H |
| Of the pain and the patience of waiting the scoff and the scorning of life | H |
| I am sick of the shapes and the shadows the sins and the sorrows that crowd | I |
| The gateways of heart and of brain of the laughter the shout that is loud | I |
| In the mouth of Success Success that was never for me ah me | J |
| - | |
| And all the wrong and neglect that are heaped belov d on thee | J |
| I am sick of the whining of failure the boast and the brag of Success | K |
| The vainness of effort and longing the dreams and the days that oppress | K |
| I am sick of them all but am sickest am sickest in body and soul | L |
| Of the love that I bear thee belov d and only thy death can make whole | L |
| - | |
| III | G |
| - | |
| Imperfect imperfect God made us or the power that men call God | M |
| And I think that a Power so perfect that made us with merely a nod | M |
| Could have fashioned us beings less faulty more able to wear and to bear | A |
| Less open to mar and to fracture less filled with the stuff of despair | A |
| Less damned with the unavailing less empty of all good things | N |
| The hopes and the dreams that mature not while the clay still to them clings | N |
| - | |
| I am sick of it all belov d of the world and the ways of God | M |
| The thorns that have pierced thy bosom the shards of the paths we have trod | M |
| I am sick of going and coming and of love I am sickest of all | B |
| The striving the praying the dreaming and the things that never befall | B |
| So there in the night belov d O fair and O fugitive | O |
| Out there in the storm and the darkness thou must die so I may live | P |
Madison Julius Cawein
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