Under The Rod Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis
Rhyme Scheme: A BBBBCDBD BEFEGHGH BBBBGIGI JBJBBKBK BLBLBABABe Still and know that I am God | A |
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Be silent Soul though dark thy path and dreary | B |
And wild with storm yet what is that to thee | B |
Though thou art faint and desolate and weary | B |
Thy God hath willed thus so let it be | B |
Murmurs the mountain oak when storms assail it | C |
And warring tempests wildly shake its form | D |
Firmer within the earth its root it striketh | B |
And gathers strength and vigor from the storm | D |
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Be silent Soul the hand of God is on thee | B |
And as a skillful gard'ner from the vine | E |
Doth lop away each worthless branch and barren | F |
So He would lop each fruitless bough of thine | E |
Ah thou art earth bound prone and lowly creeping | G |
clinging to things too frail to be thy stay | H |
Jesus with watchful care His vineyard keeping | G |
Would lift thee up to sunshine and the day | H |
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Be silent Soul thou'rt not thy own the Saviour | B |
With blood and anguish bought thee on the tree | B |
Why murmur then that He should seek to make thee | B |
Holy and pure and fit with Him to be | B |
This world is not thy home cease thy weak clinging | G |
To its frail reeds O thou whose mansion blest | I |
Is where Life's river flows with ceaseless singing | G |
Through the fair Paradise where angels rest | I |
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Be silent Soul in the great heavenly Temple | J |
The Master Builder hath a niche for thee | B |
And thou must pass beneath His forming chisel | J |
If thou a goodly polished stone wouldst be | B |
Bless God for every stroke that severs from thee | B |
The gross and earthy bringing to the light | K |
The intrinsic worth His Spirit hath wrought in thee | B |
The gem His hand would polish and make bright | K |
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Be silent Soul thy God is ever near thee | B |
Whether thy path 'mid storm or sunshine lie | L |
Whether the morning's tender radiance cheer thee | B |
Or rayless darkness veil the midnight sky | L |
What matter though thy pathway lone and dreary | B |
Should all with weary trembling feet be trod | A |
Enough for thee to know thy Lord is near thee | B |
And the rough road leads up to Heaven and God | A |
Pamela S. Vining, (j. C. Yule)
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