The Cry Of The Little Peoples Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis

Rhyme Scheme: AA BB CC BB DD EE FF GG HH CC II AA CC JK LL AA AA KK MM NN EE

The Cry of the Little Peoples went up to God in vainA
The Czech and the Pole and the Finn and the Schleswig DaneA
-
We ask but a little portion of the green ambitious earthB
Only to sow and sing and reap in the land of our birthB
-
We ask not coaling stations nor ports in the China seasC
We leave to the big child nations such rivalries as theseC
-
We have learned the lesson of Time and we know three things of worthB
Only to sow and sing and reap in the land of our birthB
-
O leave us little margins waste ends of land and seaD
A little grass and a hill or two and a shadowing treeD
-
O leave us our little rivers that sweetly catch the skyE
To drive our mills and to carry our wood and to ripple byE
-
Once long ago as you with hollow pursuit of fameF
We filled all the shaking world with the sound of our nameF
-
But now are we glad to rest our battles and boasting doneG
Glad just to sow and sing and reap in our share of the sunG
-
Of this O will ye rob us with a foolish mighty handH
Add with such cruel sorrow so small a land to your landH
-
So might a boy rejoice him to conquer a hive of beesC
Overcome ants in battle we are scarcely more mighty than theseC
-
So might a cruel heart hear a nightingale singing aloneI
And say I am mighty See how the singing stops with a stoneI
-
Yea he were mighty indeed mighty to crush and to gainA
But the bee and the ant and the bird were the mighty of brainA
-
And what shall you gain if you take us and bind us and beat us with thongsC
And drive us to sing underground in a whisper our sad little songsC
-
Forbid us the very use of our heart's own nursery tongueJ
Is this to be strong ye nations is this to be strongK
-
Your vulgar battles to fight and your grocery conquests to keepL
For this shall we break our hearts for this shall our old men weepL
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What gain in the day of battle to the Russ to the German what gainA
The Czech and the Pole and the Finn and the Schleswig DaneA
-
The Cry of the Little Peoples goes up to God in vainA
For the world is given over to the cruel sons of CainA
-
The hand that would bless us is weak and the hand that would break us is strongK
And the power of pity is nought but the power of a songK
-
The dreams that our fathers dreamed to day are laughter and dustM
And nothing at all in the world is left for a man to trustM
-
Let us hope no more or dream or prophesy or prayN
For the iron world no less will crash on its iron wayN
-
Yea nothing is left but to watch with a helpless pitying eyeE
The kind old aims for the world and the kind old fashions dieE

Richard Le Gallienne



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The Cry Of The Little Peoples is a poem by Richard Le Gallienne. This page includes the poem text, poet information, related topics, comments, and similar poems.



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