Even-song Poem Rhyme Scheme

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IT may be yes it must be Time that brings	A
An end to mortal things	A
That sends the beggar Winter in the train	B
Of Autumn's burdened wain	B
Time that is heir of all our earthly state	C
And knoweth well to wait	C
Till sea hath turned to shore and shore to sea	D
If so it need must be	D
Ere he make good his claim and call his own	E
Old empires overthrown	E
Time who can find no heavenly orb too large	F
To hold its fee in charge	F
Nor any motes that fill its beam so small	G
But he shall care for all	G
It may be must be yes he soon shall tire	H
This hand that holds the lyre	I
	-
Then ye who listened in that earlier day	J
When to my careless lay	J
I matched its chords and stole their first born thrill	K
With untaught rudest skill	K
Vexing a treble from the slender strings	A
Thin as the locust sings	A
When the shrill crying child of summer's heat	L
Pipes from its leafy seat	L
The dim pavilion of embowering green	M
Beneath whose shadowy screen	M
The small sopranist tries his single note	N
Against the song bird's throat	N
And all the echoes listen but in vain	B
They hear no answering strain	B
Then ye who listened in that earlier day	J
Shall sadly turn away	J
	-
Saying 'The fire burns low the hearth is cold	O
That warmed our blood of old	O
Cover its embers and its half burnt brands	P
And let us stretch our hands	P
Over a brighter and fresh kindled flame	Q
Lo this is not the same	Q
The joyous singer of our morning time	R
Flushed high with lusty rhyme	R
Speak kindly for he bears a human heart	S
But whisper him apart	S
Tell him the woods their autumn robes have shed	T
And all their birds have fled	T
And shouting winds unbuild the naked nests	U
They warmed with patient breasts	U
Tell him the sky is dark the summer o'er	H
And bid him sing no more '	-
	-
Ah welladay if words so cruel kind	V
A listening ear might find	V
But who that hears the music in his soul	W
Of rhythmic waves that roll	W
Crested with gleams of fire and as they flow	X
Stir all the deeps below	X
Till the great pearls no calm might ever reach	Y
Leap glistening on the beach	Y
Who that has known the passion and the pain	B
The rush through heart and brain	B
The joy so like a pang his hand is pressed	Z
Hard on his throbbing breast	Z
When thou whose smile is life and bliss and fame	Q
Hast set his pulse aflame	Q
Muse of the lyre can say farewell to thee	D
Alas and must it be	D
	-
In many a clime in many a stately tongue	A2
The mighty bards have sung	A2
To these the immemorial thrones belong	B2
And purple robes of song	B2
Yet the slight minstrel loves the slender tone	E
His lips may call his own	E
And finds the measure of the verse more sweet	L
Timed by his pulse's beat	L
Than all the hymnings of the laurelled throng	B2
Say not I do him wrong	B2
For Nature spoils her warblers them she feeds	C2
In lotus growing meads	C2
And pours them subtle draughts from haunted streams	D2
That fill their souls with dreams	D2
	-
Full well I know the gracious mother's wiles	E2
And dear delusive smiles	E2
No callow fledgling of her singing brood	F2
But tastes that witching food	F2
And hearing overhead the eagle's wing	G2
And how the thrushes sing	G2
Vents his exiguous chirp and from his nest	Z
Flaps forth we know the rest	Z
I own the weakness of the tuneful kind	V
Are not all harpers blind	V
I sang too early must I sing too late	C
The lengthening shadows wait	C
The first pale stars of twilight yet how sweet	L
The flattering whisper's cheat	L
'Thou hast the fire no evening chill can tame	Q
Whose coals outlast its flame '	-
	-
Farewell ye carols of the laughing morn	H2
Of earliest sunshine born	H2
The sower flings the seed and looks not back	I2
Along his furrowed track	I2
The reaper leaves the stalks for other hands	P
To gird with circling bands	P
The wind earth's careless servant truant born	H2
Blows clean the beaten corn	H2
And quits the thresher's floor and goes his way	J
To sport with ocean's spray	J
The headlong stumbling rivulet scrambling down	J2
To wash the sea girt town	J2
Still babbling of the green and billowy waste	K2
Whose salt he longs to taste	K2
Ere his warm wave its chilling clasp may feel	L2
Has twirled the miller's wheel	L2
	-
The song has done its task that makes us bold	O
With secrets else untold	O
And mine has run its errand through the dews	M2
I tracked the flying Muse	M2
The daughter of the morning touched my lips	N2
With roseate finger tips	N2
Whether I would or would not I must sing	G2
With the new choirs of spring	G2
Now as I watch the fading autumn day	J
And trill my softened lay	J
I think of all that listened and of one	O2
For whom a brighter sun	O2
Dawned at high summer's noon Ah comrades dear	P2
Are not all gathered here	Q2
Our hearts have answered Yes they hear our call	G
All gathered here all all	G

Oliver Wendell Holmes

Even-song Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis

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