Bryant-s Seventieth Birthday Poem Rhyme Scheme

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NOVEMBER	A
	-
O EVEN HANDED Nature we confess	B
This life that men so honor love and bless	B
Has filled thine olden measure Not the less	B
	-
We count the precious seasons that remain	C
Strike not the level of the golden grain	C
But heap it high with years that earth may gain	C
	-
What heaven can lose for heaven is rich in song	D
Do not all poets dying still prolong	D
Their broken chants amid the seraph throng	D
	-
Where blind no more Ionia's bard is seen	E
And England's heavenly minstrel sits between	E
The Mantuan and the wan cheeked Florentine	E
	-
This was the first sweet singer in the cage	F
Of our close woven life A new born age	F
Claims in his vesper song its heritage	G
	-
Spare us oh spare us long our heart's desire	A
Moloch who calls our children through the fire	A
Leaves us the gentle master of the lyre	H
	-
We count not on the dial of the sun	I
The hours the minutes that his sands have run	I
Rather as on those flowers that one by one	I
	-
From earliest dawn their ordered bloom display	J
Till evening's planet with her guiding ray	J
Leads in the blind old mother of the day	J
	-
We reckon by his songs each song a flower	A
The long long daylight numbering hour by hour	A
Each breathing sweetness like a bridal bower	A
	-
His morning glory shall we e'er forget	K
His noontide's full blown lily coronet	K
His evening primrose has not opened yet	K
	-
Nay even if creeping Time should hide the skies	L
In midnight from his century laden eyes	L
Darkened like his who sang of Paradise	M
	-
Would not some hidden song bud open bright	N
As the resplendent cactus of the night	N
That floods the gloom with fragrance and with	O
light	N
	-
How can we praise the verse whose music flows	P
With solemn cadence and majestic close	Q
Pure as the dew that filters through the rose	P
	-
How shall we thank him that in evil days	R
He faltered never nor for blame nor praise	R
Nor hire nor party shamed his earlier lays	R
	-
But as his boyhood was of manliest hue	S
So to his youth his manly years were true	S
All dyed in royal purple through and through	S
	-
He for whose touch the lyre of Heaven is strung	T
Needs not the flattering toil of mortal tongue	T
Let not the singer grieve to die unsung	T
	-
Marbles forget their message to mankind	U
In his own verse the poet still we find	U
In his own page his memory lives enshrined	U
	-
As in their amber sweets the smothered bees	V
As the fair cedar fallen before the breeze	V
Lies self embalmed amidst the mouldering trees	V
	-
Poets like youngest children never grow	W
Out of their mother's fondness Nature so	W
Holds their soft hands and will not let them go	W
	-
Till at the last they track with even feet	X
Her rhythmic footsteps and their pulses beat	X
Twinned with her pulses and their lips repeat	X
	-
The secrets she has told them as their own	Y
Thus is the inmost soul of Nature known	Y
And the rapt minstrel shares her awful throne	Y
	-
O lover of her mountains and her woods	Z
Her bridal chamber's leafy solitudes	Z
Where Love himself with tremulous step intrudes	Z
	-
Her snows fall harmless on thy sacred fire	A
Far be the day that claims thy sounding lyre	H
To join the music of the angel choir	A
	-
Yet since life's amplest measure must be filled	A2
Since throbbing hearts must be forever stilled	A2
And all must fade that evening sunsets gild	A2
	-
Grant Father ere he close the mortal eyes	Z
That see a Nation's reeking sacrifice	Z
Its smoke may vanish from these blackened skies	Z
	-
Then when his summons comes since come it must	B2
And looking heavenward with unfaltering trust	B2
He wraps his drapery round him for the dust	B2
	-
His last fond glance will show him o'er his head	C2
The Northern fires beyond the zenith spread	C2
In lambent glory blue and white and red	C2
	-
The Southern cross without its bleeding load	D2
The milky way of peace all freshly strowed	D2
And every white throned star fixed in its lost	D2
abode	D2

Oliver Wendell Holmes

Bryant-s Seventieth Birthday Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis

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