Thoughts At A Vestibule Poem Rhyme Scheme

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Here's a vestibule On holidays	A
Overcome by slavish fear	B
The whole population in a state of awe	C
Rushes to the sacred doors	D
Having left their names and ranks	E
All these visitors return then to their homes	F
They are all so deeply satisfied	G
You might think this was their calling	H
Yet on other days this ornate vestibule	I
Is beset by much more wretched sorts	J
Schemers and position seekers	K
By a widow and an aged man	L
To and fro each morning without cease	M
Couriers bustle with their papers	K
Some returning seekers whistle a tune	N
While some others walk and weep	O
Once I saw some peasants who stopped by	P
Simple Russian villagers	K
Having crossed themselves they stood aside	G
And they hung their flaxen heads	Q
Then up came a doorman Let us in they said	R
With a look of torment and of hope	S
He surveyed the visitors how ugly they all looked	T
Sunburned hands and faces	U
Threadbare coats upon their backs	V
On bent shoulders knapsacks	V
Crosses round the neck and bloodied feet	W
Shod in hand made bast	X
Must have come from far away	Y
From some far flung province	V
Someone yelled out to the doorman Send them off	Z
Our boss doesn't care for ragged mobs	V
And the door was shut In time	A2
They untied their bags	V
But the doorman spurned their meager offerings	V
And they walked off through the burning sun	B2
Saying God will be the judge	C2
With their arms thrown wide in consternation	B2
I observed them 'til they disappeared	D2
And they never donned their caps	V
	-
While the owner of this lavish palace	V
Was still nestled in deep sleep's embrace	V
You who think so highly of a life	E2
Full of thrilling shameless flattery	F2
Gluttony philandering and play	Y
Wake now There's a greater pleasure	G2
Call them back For you are their salvation	B2
But the sated are to goodness deaf	H2
	-
Heavenly thunder doesn't frighten you	I2
Earthly thunders you hold in your hands	V
That is why these unknown men must carry	F2
Grief disconsolate within their hearts	V
	-
But what does this desperate sorrow mean to you	I2
What do you care for these desperate folk	J2
A life racing by in endless holidays	V
Keeps you from awakening	H
And why care For you the people's good	K2
Is an idle game for scribblers	V
You will live a glorious life without it	L2
And you'll die a glorious death	M2
Your declining days will pass	V
Peacefully like some Arcadian idyll	N2
Under Sicily's charming skies	V
In the fragrant shade of trees	V
Contemplating crimson suns	V
As they sink into the azure sea	F2
Casting shining rays of gold	O2
Lulled by the soft melody	F2
Of Tyrrhenean waves just like a child	P2
You will slumber satisfied in every need	Q2
By your dear and loving family	F2
Who await your death impatiently	F2
Your remains they'll transport back to us	V
To reward them with a funeral feast	R2
Like a hero you'll be lowered to the grave	S2
By your homeland silently cursed	T2
Glorified by boisterous praise	V
	-
Still why bother such a personage	C2
With the pains of trivial folk	J2
Rage at them instead a great idea	U2
It's less dangerous and more amusing	H
Find ourselves some kind of solace	V
What a peasant bears is no big deal	V2
It's what fate that guides us	V
Has decreed And anyway he's used to it	L2
In some lowly inn outside the city gates	V
These poor men will drink their final rubles down	W2
And then head for home begging all the way	Y
Moaning humbly O my homeland	X2
Tell me now of some abode	Y2
I have surely never seen it	L2
Where your sower and your guardian	B2
The meek Russian peasant does not moan	Z2
In the fields he moans and on the roads	V
In the prisons and stockades he moans	V
And in ore mines wearing iron chains	V
Moans burst out from barns and stacks of hay	Y
And from carts where he sleeps in the steppe	A3
In his own poor hut he moans	V
Warmed by nothing on God's earth	B3
In each godforsaken town he moans	V
In the vestibules of courts and palaces as well	C3
Go out to the Volga hear whose moan	Z2
Rises over Russia's greatest river	G2
In our land this moan is called a song	D3
It's the boatmen straining in their traces	V
Volga Volga In the spring your torrents	V
Cannot flood the fields as much	E3
As our people's awful pain	F3
Floods our land	X2
Where you are there's moaning O my people	N2
What can all this endless moaning mean	G3
Will you ever waken filled with strength	H3
Or obeying fate's command	X2
Have you done all that you can	L
Fashioning a song so like a moan	Z2
While your soul remains forever mired in sleep	O

Nikolay Alekseyevich Nekrasov

Thoughts At A Vestibule Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis

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