Avis Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis

Rhyme Scheme: ABAB CDCD EFEF GHGH IJIJ FKFK LMLM NINI OPOP QRQR STST UVUV WXWX RARA YKYK TZTZ

I MAY not rightly call thy nameA
Alas thy forehead never knewB
The kiss that happier children claimA
Nor glistened with baptismal dewB
-
Daughter of want and wrong and woeC
I saw thee with thy sister bandD
Snatched from the whirlpool s narrowing flowC
By Mercy s strong yet trembling handD
-
Avis With Saxon eye and cheekE
At once a woman and a childF
The saint uncrowned I came to seekE
Drew near to greet us spoke and smiledF
-
God gave that sweet sad smile she woreG
All wrong to shame all souls to winH
A heavenly sunbeam sent beforeG
Her footsteps through a world of sinH
-
And who is Avis Hear the taleI
The calm voiced matrons gravely tellJ
The story known through all the valeI
Where Avis and her sisters dwellJ
-
With the lost children running wildF
Strayed from the hand of human careK
They find one little refuse childF
Left helpless in its poisoned lairK
-
The primal mark is on her faceL
The chattel stamp the pariah stainM
That follows still her hunted raceL
The curse without the crime of CainM
-
How shall our smooth turned phrase relateN
The little suffering outcast s ailI
Not Lazarus at the rich man s gateN
So turned the rose wreathed revellers paleI
-
Ah veil the living death from sightO
That wounds our beauty loving eyeP
The children turn in selfish frightO
The white lipped nurses hurry byP
-
Take her dread Angel Break in loveQ
This bruised reed and make it thineR
No voice descended from aboveQ
But Avis answered She is mineR
-
The task that dainty menials spurnS
The fair young girl has made her ownT
Her heart shall teach her hand shall learnS
The toils the duties yet unknownT
-
So Love and Death in lingering strifeU
Stand face to face from day to dayV
Still battling for the spoil of LifeU
While the slow seasons creep awayV
-
Love conquers Death the prize is wonW
See to her joyous bosom pressedX
The dusky daughter of the sunW
The bronze against the marble breastX
-
Her task is done no voice divineR
Has crowned her deeds with saintly fameA
No eye can see the aureole shineR
That rings her brow with heavenly flameA
-
Yet what has holy page more sweetY
Or what had woman s love more fairK
When Mary clasped her Saviour s feetY
With flowing eyes and streaming hairK
-
Meek child of sorrow walk unknownT
The Angel of that earthly throngZ
And let thine image live aloneT
To hallow this unstudied songZ

Oliver Wendell Holmes



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