The Iron Gate Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis
Rhyme Scheme: ABAB ACAC DEFE GHGH IJIJ KLKM NONO PQPQ IRIR STST UVUV SWSW AMAX USUS SYSY UZUZ A2BA2B SSSS UB2UI GC2GC2| WHERE is this patriarch you are kindly greeting | A |
| Not unfamiliar to my ear his name | B |
| Nor yet unknown to many a joyous meeting | A |
| In days long vanished is he still the same | B |
| - | |
| Or changed by years forgotten and forgetting | A |
| Dull eared dim sighted slow of speech and thought | C |
| Still o'er the sad degenerate present fretting | A |
| Where all goes wrong and nothing as it ought | C |
| - | |
| Old age the graybeard Well indeed I know him | D |
| Shrunk tottering bent of aches and ills the prey | E |
| In sermon story fable picture poem | F |
| Oft have I met him from my earliest day | E |
| - | |
| In my old Aesop toiling with his bundle | G |
| His load of sticks politely asking Death | H |
| Who comes when called for would he lug or trundle | G |
| His fagot for him he was scant of breath | H |
| - | |
| And sad Ecclesiastes or the Preacher | I |
| Has he not stamped tbe image on my soul | J |
| In that last chapter where the worn out Teacher | I |
| Sighs o'er the loosened cord the broken bowl | J |
| - | |
| Yes long indeed I 've known him at a distance | K |
| And now my lifted door latch shows him here | L |
| I take his shrivelled hand without resistance | K |
| And find him smiling as his step draws near | M |
| - | |
| What though of gilded baubles he bereaves us | N |
| Dear to the heart of youth to manhood's prime | O |
| Think of the calm he brings the wealth he leaves us | N |
| The hoarded spoils the legacies of time | O |
| - | |
| Altars once flaming still with incense fragrant | P |
| Passion's uneasy nurslings rocked asleep | Q |
| Hope's anchor faster wild desire less vagrant | P |
| Life's flow less noisy but the stream how deep | Q |
| - | |
| Still as the silver cord gets worn and slender | I |
| Its lightened task work tugs with lessening strain | R |
| Hands get more helpful voices grown more tender | I |
| Soothe with their softened tones the slumberous brain | R |
| - | |
| Youth longs and manhood strives but age remembers | S |
| Sits by the raked up ashes of the past | T |
| Spreads its thin hands above the whitening embers | S |
| That warm its creeping life blood till the last | T |
| - | |
| Dear to its heart is every loving token | U |
| That comes unbidden era its pulse grows cold | V |
| Ere the last lingering ties of life are broken | U |
| Its labors ended and its story told | V |
| - | |
| Ah while around us rosy youth rejoices | S |
| For us the sorrow laden breezes sigh | W |
| And through the chorus of its jocund voices | S |
| Throbs the sharp note of misery's hopeless cry | W |
| - | |
| As on the gauzy wings of fancy flying | A |
| From some far orb I track our watery sphere | M |
| Home of the struggling suffering doubting dying | A |
| The silvered globule seems a glistening tear | X |
| - | |
| But Nature lends her mirror of illusion | U |
| To win from saddening scenes our age dimmed eyes | S |
| And misty day dreams blend in sweet confusion | U |
| The wintry landscape and the summer skies | S |
| - | |
| So when the iron portal shuts behind us | S |
| And life forgets us in its noise and whirl | Y |
| Visions that shunned the glaring noonday find us | S |
| And glimmering starlight shows the gates of pearl | Y |
| - | |
| I come not here your morning hour to sadden | U |
| A limping pilgrim leaning on his staff | Z |
| I who have never deemed it sin to gladden | U |
| This vale of sorrows with a wholesome laugh | Z |
| - | |
| If word of mine another's gloom has brightened | A2 |
| Through my dumb lips the heaven sent message came | B |
| If hand of mine another's task has lightened | A2 |
| It felt the guidance that it dares not claim | B |
| - | |
| But O my gentle sisters O my brothers | S |
| These thick sown snow flakes hint of toil's release | S |
| These feebler pulses bid me leave to others | S |
| The tasks once welcome evening asks for peace | S |
| - | |
| Time claims his tribute silence now golden | U |
| Let me not vex the too long suffering lyre | B2 |
| Though to your love untiring still beholden | U |
| The curfew tells me cover up the fire | I |
| - | |
| And now with grateful smile and accents cheerful | G |
| And warmer heart than look or word can tell | C2 |
| In simplest phrase these traitorous eyes are tearful | G |
| Thanks Brothers Sisters Children and farewell | C2 |
Oliver Wendell Holmes
(1)
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About The Iron Gate
The Iron Gate is a poem by Oliver Wendell Holmes. This page includes the poem text, poet information, related topics, comments, and similar poems.
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