A Poem. Dedication Of The Pittsfield Cemetery Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis
Rhyme Scheme: AABBCCDEFF GGHHCIJJKKLLMMNNDDOO HHPPQQ RRAAHHCCHHHHSS TTHHUVWWHHHHHHXXHHAA HHYYZZA2A2HHFFB2B2MM C2D2E2E2F2F2 G2G2C2D2HHRR AAHHKKH2H2DEVVPP HHB2B2 I2I2J2J2ANGEL of Death extend thy silent reign | A |
Stretch thy dark sceptre o er this new domain | A |
No sable car along the winding road | B |
Has borne to earth its unresisting load | B |
No sudden mound has risen yet to show | C |
Where the pale slumberer folds his arms below | C |
No marble gleams to bid his memory live | D |
In the brief lines that hurrying Time can give | E |
Yet O Destroyer from thy shrouded throne | F |
Look on our gift this realm is all thine own | F |
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Fair is the scene its sweetness oft beguiled | G |
From their dim paths the children of the wild | G |
The dark haired maiden loved its grassy dells | H |
The feathered warrior claimed its wooded swells | H |
Still on its slopes the ploughman s ridges show | C |
The pointed flints that left his fatal bow | I |
Chipped with rough art and slow barbarian toil | J |
Last of his wrecks that strews the alien soil | J |
Here spread the fields that heaped their ripened store | K |
Till the brown arms of Labor held no more | K |
The scythe s broad meadow with its dusky blush | L |
The sickle s harvest with its velvet flush | L |
The green haired maize her silken tresses laid | M |
In soft luxuriance on her harsh brocade | M |
The gourd that swells beneath her tossing plume | N |
The coarser wheat that rolls in lakes of bloom | N |
Its coral stems and milk white flowers alive | D |
With the wide murmurs of the scattered hive | D |
Here glowed the apple with the pencilled streak | O |
Of morning painted on its southern cheek | O |
The pear s long necklace strung with golden drops | H |
Arched like the banian o er its pillared props | H |
Here crept the growths that paid the laborer s care | P |
With the cheap luxuries wealth consents to spare | P |
Here sprang the healing herbs which could not save | Q |
The hand that reared them from the neighboring grave | Q |
- | |
Yet all its varied charms forever free | R |
From task and tribute Labor yields to thee | R |
No more when April sheds her fitful rain | A |
The sower s hand shall cast its flying grain | A |
No more when Autumn strews the flaming leaves | H |
The reaper s band shall gird its yellow sheaves | H |
For thee alike the circling seasons flow | C |
Till the first blossoms heave the latest snow | C |
In the stiff clod below the whirling drifts | H |
In the loose soil the springing herbage lifts | H |
In the hot dust beneath the parching weeds | H |
Life s withering flower shall drop its shrivelled seeds | H |
Its germ entranced in thy unbreathing sleep | S |
Till what thou sowest mightier angels reap | S |
- | |
Spirit of Beauty let thy graces blend | T |
With loveliest Nature all that Art can lend | T |
Come from the bowers where Summer s life blood flows | H |
Through the red lips of June s half open rose | H |
Dressed in bright hues the loving sunshine s dower | U |
For tranquil Nature owns no mourning flower | V |
Come from the forest where the beech s screen | W |
Bars the fierce moonbeam with its flakes of green | W |
Stay the rude axe that bares the shadowy plains | H |
Stanch the deep wound That dries the maple s veins | H |
Come with the stream whose silver braided rills | H |
Fling their unclasping bracelets from the hills | H |
Till in one gleam beneath the forest s wings | H |
Melts the white glitter of a hundred springs | H |
Come from the steeps where look majestic forth | X |
From their twin thrones the Giants of the North | X |
On the huge shapes that crouching at their knees | H |
Stretch their broad shoulders rough with shaggy trees | H |
Through the wide waste of ether not in vain | A |
Their softened gaze shall reach our distant plain | A |
There while the mourner turns his aching eyes | H |
On the blue mounds that print the bluer skies | H |
Nature shall whisper that the fading view | Y |
Of mightiest grief may wear a heavenly hue | Y |
Cherub of Wisdom let thy marble page | Z |
Leave its sad lesson new to every age | Z |
Teach us to live not grudging every breath | A2 |
To the chill winds that waft us on to death | A2 |
But ruling calmly every pulse it warms | H |
And tempering gently every word it forms | H |
Seraph of Love in heaven s adoring zone | F |
Nearest of all around the central throne | F |
While with soft hands the pillowed turf we spread | B2 |
That soon shall hold us in its dreamless bed | B2 |
With the low whisper Who shall first be laid | M |
In the dark chamber s yet unbroken shade | M |
Let thy sweet radiance shine rekindled here | C2 |
And all we cherish grow more truly dear | D2 |
Here in the gates of Death s o erhanging vault | E2 |
Oh teach us kindness for our brother s fault | E2 |
Lay all our wrongs beneath this peaceful sod | F2 |
And lead our hearts to Mercy and its God | F2 |
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FATHER of all in Death s relentless claim | G2 |
We read thy mercy by its sterner name | G2 |
In the bright flower that decks the solemn bier | C2 |
We see thy glory in its narrowed sphere | D2 |
In the deep lessons that affliction draws | H |
We trace the curves of thy encircling laws | H |
In the long sigh that sets our spirits free | R |
We own the love that calls us back to Thee | R |
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Through the hushed street along the silent plain | A |
The spectral future leads its mourning train | A |
Dark with the shadows of uncounted bands | H |
Where man s white lips and woman s wringing hands | H |
Track the still burden rolling slow before | K |
That love and kindness can protect no more | K |
The smiling babe that called to mortal strife | H2 |
Shuts its meek eyes and drops its little life | H2 |
The drooping child who prays in vain to live | D |
And pleads for help its parent cannot give | E |
The pride of beauty stricken in its flower | V |
The strength of manhood broken in an hour | V |
Age in its weakness bowed by toil and care | P |
Traced in sad lines beneath its silvered hair | P |
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The sun shall set and heaven s resplendent spheres | H |
Gild the smooth turf unhallowed yet by tears | H |
But ah how soon the evening stars will shed | B2 |
Their sleepless light around the slumbering dead | B2 |
- | |
Take them O Father in immortal trust | I2 |
Ashes to ashes dust to kindred dust | I2 |
Till the last angel rolls the stone away | J2 |
And a new morning brings eternal day | J2 |
Oliver Wendell Holmes
(1)
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