Humanitad Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis

Rhyme Scheme: ABABCC DEDEFF GHGHII HJHJKK HKHKKK LMLEHH KHKHHH HKHKNO HHHHHH HPHQRR HHHHKK HSHSTT HHHHUU VTVTHH WXWXYY ZA2ZB2HH C2HC2HH D2HD2HA2A2 HTHTHH OTOTHH E2RE2RHH F2DF2DTT G2HG2HHH HHHHHH TC2TC2TT H2HH2HI2I2 J2K2J2K2L2L2 M2HM2HTT LTLTM2M2 HM2HTM2M2 XHXHM2M2 HM2HM2HI2 I2M2I2M2HH TI2TI2N2N2 I2TI2THH O2HO2HI2H HI2HI2M2M2 M2I2M2I2TT M2HM2HHH HM2HM2HH I2HI2HM2M2 P2HP2HTM2 HTHTTT HM2HM2HH HN2HN2DD HTHTTT Q2HQ2HHH HM2HM2TH HM2HM2HH I2M2I2M2M2M2 HHHI2TT M2HM2HN2N2 HI2HI2R2R2 M2DM2DM2M2 M2DM2DHH VHVHTT TI2TI2DD HTHTM2M2 HM2HM2HH HI2HI2HH THTHTT Q2TQ2THH TTTTHH HHHHHH HHHHHH HI2HHHH S2HS2HHH TI2TI2HH HHHHHH THTHI2I2 HHHHHH HN2HN2TT HTHTHH

It is full winter now the trees are bareA
Save where the cattle huddle from the coldB
Beneath the pine for it doth never wearA
The autumn's gaudy livery whose goldB
Her jealous brother pilfers but is trueC
To the green doublet bitter is the wind as though it blewC
-
From Saturn's cave a few thin wisps of hayD
Lie on the sharp black hedges where the wainE
Dragged the sweet pillage of a summer's dayD
From the low meadows up the narrow laneE
Upon the half thawed snow the bleating sheepF
Press close against the hurdles and the shivering house dogs creepF
-
From the shut stable to the frozen streamG
And back again disconsolate and missH
The bawling shepherds and the noisy teamG
And overhead in circling listlessnessH
The cawing rooks whirl round the frosted stackI
Or crowd the dripping boughs and in the fen the ice pools crackI
-
Where the gaunt bittern stalks among the reedsH
And flaps his wings and stretches back his neckJ
And hoots to see the moon across the meadsH
Limps the poor frightened hare a little speckJ
And a stray seamew with its fretful cryK
Flits like a sudden drift of snow against the dull grey skyK
-
Full winter and the lusty goodman bringsH
His load of faggots from the chilly byreK
And stamps his feet upon the hearth and flingsH
The sappy billets on the waning fireK
And laughs to see the sudden lightening scareK
His children at their play and yet the spring is in the airK
-
Already the slim crocus stirs the snowL
And soon yon blanched fields will bloom againM
With nodding cowslips for some lad to mowL
For with the first warm kisses of the rainE
The winter's icy sorrow breaks to tearsH
And the brown thrushes mate and with bright eyes the rabbit peersH
-
From the dark warren where the fir cones lieK
And treads one snowdrop under foot and runsH
Over the mossy knoll and blackbirds flyK
Across our path at evening and the sunsH
Stay longer with us ah how good to seeH
Grass girdled spring in all her joy of laughing greeneryH
-
Dance through the hedges till the early roseH
That sweet repentance of the thorny briarK
Burst from its sheathed emerald and discloseH
The little quivering disk of golden fireK
Which the bees know so well for with it comeN
Pale boy's love sops in wine and daffadillies all in bloomO
-
Then up and down the field the sower goesH
While close behind the laughing younker scaresH
With shrilly whoop the black and thievish crowsH
And then the chestnut tree its glory wearsH
And on the grass the creamy blossom fallsH
In odorous excess and faint half whispered madrigalsH
-
Steal from the bluebells' nodding carillonsH
Each breezy morn and then white jessamineP
That star of its own heaven snap dragonsH
With lolling crimson tongues and eglantineQ
In dusty velvets clad usurp the bedR
And woodland empery and when the lingering rose hath shedR
-
Red leaf by leaf its folded panoplyH
And pansies closed their purple lidded eyesH
Chrysanthemums from gilded argosyH
Unload their gaudy scentless merchandiseH
And violets getting overbold withdrawK
From their shy nooks and scarlet berries dot the leafless hawK
-
O happy field and O thrice happy treeH
Soon will your queen in daisy flowered smockS
And crown of flower de luce trip down the leaH
Soon will the lazy shepherds drive their flockS
Back to the pasture by the pool and soonT
Through the green leaves will float the hum of murmuring bees at noonT
-
Soon will the glade be bright with bellamourH
The flower which wantons love and those sweet nunsH
Vale lilies in their snowy vestitureH
Will tell their beaded pearls and carnationsH
With mitred dusky leaves will scent the windU
And straggling traveller's joy each hedge with yellow stars will bindU
-
Dear bride of Nature and most bounteous springV
That canst give increase to the sweet breath'd kineT
And to the kid its little horns and bringV
The soft and silky blossoms to the vineT
Where is that old nepenthe which of yoreH
Man got from poppy root and glossy berried mandragoreH
-
There was a time when any common birdW
Could make me sing in unison a timeX
When all the strings of boyish life were stirredW
To quick response or more melodious rhymeX
By every forest idyll do I changeY
Or rather doth some evil thing through thy fair pleasaunce rangeY
-
Nay nay thou art the same 'tis I who seekZ
To vex with sighs thy simple solitudeA2
And because fruitless tears bedew my cheekZ
Would have thee weep with me in brotherhoodB2
Fool shall each wronged and restless spirit dareH
To taint such wine with the salt poison of own despairH
-
Thou art the same 'tis I whose wretched soulC2
Takes discontent to be its paramourH
And gives its kingdom to the rude controlC2
Of what should be its servitor for sureH
Wisdom is somewhere though the stormy seaH
Contain it not and the huge deep answer ''Tis not in me '-
-
To burn with one clear flame to stand erectD2
In natural honour not to bend the kneeH
In profitless prostrations whose effectD2
Is by itself condemned what alchemyH
Can teach me this what herb Medea brewedA2
Will bring the unexultant peace of essence not subduedA2
-
The minor chord which ends the harmonyH
And for its answering brother waits in vainT
Sobbing for incompleted melodyH
Dies a swan's death but I the heir of painT
A silent Memnon with blank lidless eyesH
Wait for the light and music of those suns which never riseH
-
The quenched out torch the lonely cypress gloomO
The little dust stored in the narrow urnT
The gentle XAIPE of the Attic tombO
Were not these better far than to returnT
To my old fitful restless maladyH
Or spend my days within the voiceless cave of miseryH
-
Nay for perchance that poppy crowned godE2
Is like the watcher by a sick man's bedR
Who talks of sleep but gives it not his rodE2
Hath lost its virtue and when all is saidR
Death is too rude too obvious a keyH
To solve one single secret in a life's philosophyH
-
And Love that noble madness whose augustF2
And inextinguishable might can slayD
The soul with honeyed drugs alas I mustF2
From such sweet ruin play the runawayD
Although too constant memory never canT
Forget the arched splendour of those brows OlympianT
-
Which for a little season made my youthG2
So soft a swoon of exquisite indolenceH
That all the chiding of more prudent TruthG2
Seemed the thin voice of jealousy O henceH
Thou huntress deadlier than ArtemisH
Go seek some other quarry for of thy too perilous blissH
-
My lips have drunk enough no more no moreH
Though Love himself should turn his gilded prowH
Back to the troubled waters of this shoreH
Where I am wrecked and stranded even nowH
The chariot wheels of passion sweep too nearH
Hence Hence I pass unto a life more barren more austereH
-
More barren ay those arms will never leanT
Down through the trellised vines and draw my soulC2
In sweet reluctance through the tangled greenT
Some other head must wear that aureoleC2
For I am hers who loves not any manT
Whose white and stainless bosom bears the sign GorgonianT
-
Let Venus go and chuck her dainty pageH2
And kiss his mouth and toss his curly hairH
With net and spear and hunting equipageH2
Let young Adonis to his tryst repairH
But me her fond and subtle fashioned spellI2
Delights no more though I could win her dearest citadelI2
-
Ay though I were that laughing shepherd boyJ2
Who from Mount Ida saw the little cloudK2
Pass over Tenedos and lofty TroyJ2
And knew the coming of the Queen and bowedK2
In wonder at her feet not for the sakeL2
Of a new Helen would I bid her hand the apple takeL2
-
Then rise supreme Athena argent limbedM2
And if my lips be musicless inspireH
At least my life was not thy glory hymnedM2
By One who gave to thee his sword and lyreH
Like AEschylos at well fought MarathonT
And died to show that Milton's England still could bear a sonT
-
And yet I cannot tread the PorticoL
And live without desire fear and painT
Or nurture that wise calm which long agoL
The grave Athenian master taught to menT
Self poised self centred and self comfortedM2
To watch the world's vain phantasies go by with unbowed headM2
-
Alas that serene brow those eloquent lipsH
Those eyes that mirrored all eternityM2
Rest in their own Colonos an eclipseH
Hath come on Wisdom and MnemosyneT
Is childless in the night which she had madeM2
For lofty secure flight Athena's owl itself hath strayedM2
-
Nor much with Science do I care to climbX
Although by strange and subtle witcheryH
She drew the moon from heaven the Muse TimeX
Unrolls her gorgeous coloured tapestryH
To no less eager eyes often indeedM2
In the great epic of Polymnia's scroll I love to readM2
-
How Asia sent her myriad hosts to warH
Against a little town and panopliedM2
In gilded mail with jewelled scimitarH
White shielded purple crested rode the MedeM2
Between the waving poplars and the seaH
Which men call Artemisium till he saw ThermopylaeI2
-
Its steep ravine spanned by a narrow wallI2
And on the nearer side a little broodM2
Of careless lions holding festivalI2
And stood amazed at such hardihoodM2
And pitched his tent upon the reedy shoreH
And stayed two days to wonder and then crept at midnight o'erH
-
Some unfrequented height and coming downT
The autumn forests treacherously slewI2
What Sparta held most dear and was the crownT
Of far Eurotas and passed on nor knewI2
How God had staked an evil net for himN2
In the small bay at Salamis and yet the page grows dimN2
-
Its cadenced Greek delights me not I feelI2
With such a goodly time too out of tuneT
To love it much for like the Dial's wheelI2
That from its blinded darkness strikes the noonT
Yet never sees the sun so do my eyesH
Restlessly follow that which from my cheated vision fliesH
-
O for one grand unselfish simple lifeO2
To teach us what is Wisdom speak ye hillsH
Of lone Helvellyn for this note of strifeO2
Shunned your untroubled crags and crystal rillsH
Where is that Spirit which living blamelesslyI2
Yet dared to kiss the smitten mouth of his own centuryH
-
Speak ye Rydalian laurels where is heH
Whose gentle head ye sheltered that pure soulI2
Whose gracious days of uncrowned majestyH
Through lowliest conduct touched the lofty goalI2
Where love and duty mingle Him at leastM2
The most high Laws were glad of he had sat at Wisdom's feastM2
-
But we are Learning's changelings know by roteM2
The clarion watchword of each Grecian schoolI2
And follow none the flawless sword which smoteM2
The pagan Hydra is an effete toolI2
Which we ourselves have blunted what man nowT
Shall scale the august ancient heights and to old Reverence bowT
-
One such indeed I saw but IchabodM2
Gone is that last dear son of ItalyH
Who being man died for the sake of GodM2
And whose unrisen bones sleep peacefullyH
O guard him guard him well my Giotto's towerH
Thou marble lily of the lily town let not the lourH
-
Of the rude tempest vex his slumber orH
The Arno with its tawny troubled goldM2
O'er leap its marge no mightier conquerorH
Clomb the high Capitol in the days of oldM2
When Rome was indeed Rome for LibertyH
Walked like a bride beside him at which sight pale MysteryH
-
Fled shrieking to her farthest sombrest cellI2
With an old man who grabbled rusty keysH
Fled shuddering for that immemorial knellI2
With which oblivion buries dynastiesH
Swept like a wounded eagle on the blastM2
As to the holy heart of Rome the great triumvir passedM2
-
He knew the holiest heart and heights of RomeP2
He drave the base wolf from the lion's lairH
And now lies dead by that empyreal domeP2
Which overtops Valdarno hung in airH
By Brunelleschi O MelpomeneT
Breathe through thy melancholy pipe thy sweetest threnodyM2
-
Breathe through the tragic stops such melodiesH
That Joy's self may grow jealous and the NineT
Forget awhile their discreet emperiesH
Mourning for him who on Rome's lordliest shrineT
Lit for men's lives the light of MarathonT
And bare to sun forgotten fields the fire of the sunT
-
O guard him guard him well my Giotto's towerH
Let some young Florentine each eventideM2
Bring coronals of that enchanted flowerH
Which the dim woods of Vallombrosa hideM2
And deck the marble tomb wherein he liesH
Whose soul is as some mighty orb unseen of mortal eyesH
-
Some mighty orb whose cycled wanderingsH
Being tempest driven to the farthest rimN2
Where Chaos meets Creation and the wingsH
Of the eternal chanting CherubimN2
Are pavilioned on Nothing passed awayD
Into a moonless void and yet though he is dust and clayD
-
He is not dead the immemorial FatesH
Forbid it and the closing shears refrainT
Lift up your heads ye everlasting gatesH
Ye argent clarions sound a loftier strainT
For the vile thing he hated lurks withinT
Its sombre house alone with God and memories of sinT
-
Still what avails it that she sought her caveQ2
That murderous mother of red harlotriesH
At Munich on the marble architraveQ2
The Grecian boys die smiling but the seasH
Which wash AEgina fret in lonelinessH
Not mirroring their beauty so our lives grow colourlessH
-
For lack of our ideals if one starH
Flame torch like in the heavens the unjustM2
Swift daylight kills it and no trump of warH
Can wake to passionate voice the silent dustM2
Which was Mazzini once rich NiobeT
For all her stony sorrows hath her sons but ItalyH
-
What Easter Day shall make her children riseH
Who were not Gods yet suffered what sure feetM2
Shall find their grave clothes folded what clear eyesH
Shall see them bodily O it were meetM2
To roll the stone from off the sepulchreH
And kiss the bleeding roses of their wounds in love of herH
-
Our Italy our mother visibleI2
Most blessed among nations and most sadM2
For whose dear sake the young Calabrian fellI2
That day at Aspromonte and was gladM2
That in an age when God was bought and soldM2
One man could die for Liberty but we burnt out and coldM2
-
See Honour smitten on the cheek and gyvesH
Bind the sweet feet of Mercy PovertyH
Creeps through our sunless lanes and with sharp knivesH
Cuts the warm throats of children stealthilyI2
And no word said O we are wretched menT
Unworthy of our great inheritance where is the penT
-
Of austere Milton where the mighty swordM2
Which slew its master righteously the yearsH
Have lost their ancient leader and no wordM2
Breaks from the voiceless tripod on our earsH
While as a ruined mother in some spasmN2
Bears a base child and loathes it so our best enthusiasmN2
-
Genders unlawful children AnarchyH
Freedom's own Judas the vile prodigalI2
Licence who steals the gold of LibertyH
And yet has nothing Ignorance the realI2
One Fraticide since Cain Envy the aspR2
That stings itself to anguish Avarice whose palsied graspR2
-
Is in its extent stiffened moneyed GreedM2
For whose dull appetite men waste awayD
Amid the whirr of wheels and are the seedM2
Of things which slay their sower these each dayD
Sees rife in England and the gentle feetM2
Of Beauty tread no more the stones of each unlovely streetM2
-
What even Cromwell spared is desecratedM2
By weed and worm left to the stormy playD
Of wind and beating snow or renovatedM2
By more destructful hands Time's worst decayD
Will wreathe its ruins with some lovelinessH
But these new Vandals can but make a rain proof barrennessH
-
Where is that Art which bade the Angels singV
Through Lincoln's lofty choir till the airH
Seems from such marble harmonies to ringV
With sweeter song than common lips can dareH
To draw from actual reed ah where is nowT
The cunning hand which made the flowering hawthorn branches bowT
-
For Southwell's arch and carved the House of OneT
Who loved the lilies of the field with allI2
Our dearest English flowers the same sunT
Rises for us the seasons naturalI2
Weave the same tapestry of green and greyD
The unchanged hills are with us but that Spirit hath passed awayD
-
And yet perchance it may be better soH
For Tyranny is an incestuous QueenT
Murder her brother is her bedfellowH
And the Plague chambers with her in obsceneT
And bloody paths her treacherous feet are setM2
Better the empty desert and a soul inviolateM2
-
For gentle brotherhood the harmonyH
Of living in the healthful air the swiftM2
Clean beauty of strong limbs when men are freeH
And women chaste these are the things which liftM2
Our souls up more than even Agnolo'sH
Gaunt blinded Sibyl poring o'er the scroll of human woesH
-
Or Titian's little maiden on the stairH
White as her own sweet lily and as tallI2
Or Mona Lisa smiling through her hairH
Ah somehow life is bigger after allI2
Than any painted angel could we seeH
The God that is within us The old Greek serenityH
-
Which curbs the passion of that level lineT
Of marble youths who with untroubled eyesH
And chastened limbs ride round Athena's shrineT
And mirror her divine economiesH
And balanced symmetry of what in manT
Would else wage ceaseless warfare this at least within the spanT
-
Between our mother's kisses and the graveQ2
Might so inform our lives that we could winT
Such mighty empires that from her caveQ2
Temptation would grow hoarse and pallid SinT
Would walk ashamed of his adulteriesH
And Passion creep from out the House of Lust with startled eyesH
-
To make the body and the spirit oneT
With all right things till no thing live in vainT
From morn to noon but in sweet unisonT
With every pulse of flesh and throb of brainT
The soul in flawless essence high enthronedH
Against all outer vain attack invincibly bastionedH
-
Mark with serene impartialityH
The strife of things and yet be comfortedH
Knowing that by the chain causalityH
All separate existences are wedH
Into one supreme whole whose utteranceH
Is joy or holier praise ah surely this were governanceH
-
Of Life in most august omnipresenceH
Through which the rational intellect would findH
In passion its expression and mere senseH
Ignoble else lend fire to the mindH
And being joined with it in harmonyH
More mystical than that which binds the stars planetaryH
-
Strike from their several tones one octave chordH
Whose cadence being measureless would flyI2
Through all the circling spheres then to its LordH
Return refreshed with its new emperyH
And more exultant power this indeedH
Could we but reach it were to find the last the perfect creedH
-
Ah it was easy when the world was youngS2
To keep one's life free and inviolateH
From our sad lips another song is rungS2
By our own hands our heads are desecrateH
Wanderers in drear exile and dispossessedH
Of what should be our own we can but feed on wild unrestH
-
Somehow the grace the bloom of things has flownT
And of all men we are most wretched whoI2
Must live each other's lives and not our ownT
For very pity's sake and then undoI2
All that we lived for it was otherwiseH
When soul and body seemed to blend in mystic symphoniesH
-
But we have left those gentle haunts to passH
With weary feet to the new CalvaryH
Where we behold as one who in a glassH
Sees his own face self slain HumanityH
And in the dumb reproach of that sad gazeH
Learn what an awful phantom the red hand of man can raiseH
-
O smitten mouth O forehead crowned with thornT
O chalice of all common miseriesH
Thou for our sakes that loved thee not hast borneT
An agony of endless centuriesH
And we were vain and ignorant nor knewI2
That when we stabbed thy heart it was our own real hearts we slewI2
-
Being ourselves the sowers and the seedsH
The night that covers and the lights that fadeH
The spear that pierces and the side that bleedsH
The lips betraying and the life betrayedH
The deep hath calm the moon hath rest but weH
Lords of the natural world are yet our own dread enemyH
-
Is this the end of all that primal forceH
Which in its changes being still the sameN2
From eyeless Chaos cleft its upward courseH
Through ravenous seas and whirling rocks and flameN2
Till the suns met in heaven and beganT
Their cycles and the morning stars sang and the Word was ManT
-
Nay nay we are but crucified and thoughH
The bloody sweat falls from our brows like rainT
Loosen the nails we shall come down I knowH
Staunch the red wounds we shall be whole againT
No need have we of hyssop laden rodH
That which is purely human that is godlike that is GodH

Oscar Fingal O'flahertie Wills Wilde



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