For The Commemoration Services Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis
Rhyme Scheme: A BCBC DEDE FGFG FHF IJIJ KLKL EMEM NCNC OF OF PEQE RFRF FFFF FSFT FUFU VAVA WQWQ XXXX FYFY ZFZF FA2FA2 B2C2B2D2| CAMBRIDGE JULY | A |
| - | |
| FOUR summers coined their golden light in leaves | B |
| Four wasteful autumns flung them to the gale | C |
| Four winters wore the shroud the tempest weaves | B |
| The fourth wan April weeps o'er hill and vale | C |
| - | |
| And still the war clouds scowl on sea and land | D |
| With the red gleams of battle staining through | E |
| When lo as parted by an angel's hand | D |
| They open and the heavens again are blue | E |
| - | |
| Which is the dream the present or the past | F |
| The night of anguish or the joyous morn | G |
| The long long years with horrors overcast | F |
| Or the sweet promise of the day new born | G |
| - | |
| Tell us O father as thine arms infold | F |
| Thy belted first born in their fast embrace | H |
| Murmuring the prayer the patriarch breathed of old | F |
| 'Now let me die for I have seen thy face ' | - |
| - | |
| Tell us O mother nay thou canst not speak | I |
| But thy fond eyes shall answer brimmed with joy | J |
| Press thy mute lips against the sunbrowned cheek | I |
| Is this a phantom thy returning boy | J |
| - | |
| Tell us O maiden ah what canst thou tell | K |
| That Nature's record is not first to teach | L |
| The open volume all can read so well | K |
| With its twin rose hued pages full of speech | L |
| - | |
| And ye who mourn your dead how sternly true | E |
| The crushing hour that wrenched their lives away | M |
| Shadowed with sorrow's midnight veil for you | E |
| For them the dawning of immortal day | M |
| - | |
| Dream like these years of conflict not a dream | N |
| Death ruin ashes tell the awful tale | C |
| Read by the flaming war track's lurid gleam | N |
| No dream but truth that turns the nations pale | C |
| - | |
| For on the pillar raised by martyr hands | O |
| Burns the rekindled beacon of the right | F |
| - | |
| Sowing its seeds of fire o'er all the lands | O |
| Thrones look a century older in its light | F |
| - | |
| Rome had her triumphs round the conqueror's car | P |
| The ensigns waved the brazen clarions blew | E |
| And o'er the reeking spoils of bandit war | Q |
| With outspread wings the cruel eagles flew | E |
| - | |
| Arms treasures captives kings in clanking chains | R |
| Urged on by trampling cohorts bronzed and scarred | F |
| And wild eyed wonders snared on Lybian plains | R |
| Lion and ostrich and camelopard | F |
| - | |
| Vain all that praetors clutched that consuls brought | F |
| When Rome's returning legions crowned their lord | F |
| Less than the least brave deed these hands have wrought | F |
| We clasp unclinching from the bloody sword | F |
| - | |
| Theirs was the mighty work that seers foretold | F |
| They know not half their glorious toil has won | S |
| For this is Heaven's same battle joined of old | F |
| When Athens fought for us at Marathon | T |
| - | |
| Behold a vision none hath understood | F |
| The breaking of the Apocalyptic seal | U |
| Twice rings the summons Hail and fire and blood | F |
| Then the third angel blows his trumpet peal | U |
| - | |
| Loud wail the dwellers on the myrtled coasts | V |
| The green savannas swell the maddened cry | A |
| And with a yell from all the demon hosts | V |
| Falls the great star called Wormwood from the sky | A |
| - | |
| Bitter it mingles with the poisoned flow | W |
| Of the warm rivers winding to the shore | Q |
| Thousands must drink the waves of death and woe | W |
| But the star Wormwood stains the heavens no more | Q |
| - | |
| Peace smiles at last the Nation calls her sons | X |
| To sheathe the sword her battle flag she furls | X |
| Speaks in glad thunders from unspotted guns | X |
| No terror shrouded in the smoke wreath's curls | X |
| - | |
| O ye that fought for Freedom living dead | F |
| One sacred host of God's anointed Queen | Y |
| For every holy drop your veins have shed | F |
| We breathe a welcome to our bowers of green | Y |
| - | |
| Welcome ye living from the foeman's gripe | Z |
| Your country's banner it was yours to wrest | F |
| Ah many a forehead shows the banner stripe | Z |
| And stars once crimson hallow many a breast | F |
| - | |
| And ye pale heroes who from glory's bed | F |
| Mark when your old battalions form in line | A2 |
| Move in their marching ranks with noiseless tread | F |
| And shape unheard the evening countersign | A2 |
| - | |
| Come with your comrades the returning brave | B2 |
| Shoulder to shoulder they await you here | C2 |
| These lent the life their martyr brothers gave | B2 |
| Living and dead alike forever dear | D2 |
Oliver Wendell Holmes
(1)
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