The Year's End Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis

Rhyme Scheme: ABAACDEDDEFGGGGHIJJI KGKKGLGLLGMNOPQRSRRS TITTIDLDDLUQUUQIVIIV WDWWDDGDDGXBXXC

THE voices of the wind and waveA
They sigh the Old Year's requiemB
The dead are calling from the graveA
Good friends a little space I craveA
To turn aside and think of themC
They were as even you and ID
When you and I were young as theyE
And yet they knew the way to dieD
Come think with me and tell me whyD
It should be thus with hearts so gayE
Ah blessed be the gracious GodF
Who moulding us from clay and dewG
From morning dew and clay untrodG
So breathed Himself into the sodG
That we at best grow Godlike tooG
For treading pleasure underneathH
These glory souls our country's flowerI
Arose responsive to that breathJ
And looked into the face of DeathJ
And did not tremble at his powerI
Should it not make us sure and toughK
As tested steel and unafraidG
To feel though Fate ride robber roughK
That we are fashioned of the stuffK
Whereof these heroes too were madeG
Though they are dead and o'er them bendsL
A people's soul in mourning moodG
Proud Honour at their grave attendsL
Henceforth we are a nation friendsL
By right of sacrificial bloodG
The care free days of youth are goneM
What once we were no more we areN
And dead are all the dreams that shoneO
Ere we were bruised and hammered onP
The ringing anvils of red warQ
The Spirit of Immortal TimesR
With lights that dazzle and enticeS
Is vitalizing all earth's climesR
Once more in golden tones it chimesR
The anthem of High SacrificeS
And yet though Fame be very fairT
And great the yearning and desireI
Of hero hearts to do and dareT
Behold there stands an empty chairT
Beside a cold and ashen fireI
Because as even you and ID
They loved and were beloved my friendsL
Not all the glory stars on highD
The splendid things for which men dieD
Can for their passing make amendsL
There is a house that waits in vainU
To give them entrance at its doorQ
When frost's afoot or chilly rainU
There is a track across the plainU
That they alas shall ride no moreQ
A whip a saddle and a spurI
Ah love lit rides The moon aboveV
Sweet scents around soft winds astirI
God give him rest And what of herI
Why ask Is love not always loveV
Dear eyes that pain has made divineW
Sad eyes that burn with tears unshedD
Within whose depths are griefs that pineW
And pilgrim thoughts that seek the shrineW
The grave of their beloved deadD
Dear eyes dear hearts dear folk tear blindD
Who greet each morn with grief anewG
Pale cheeks grown cold and foreheads linedD
Since God is good and Heaven is kindD
There shall be recompense for youG
The Old Year dies and o'er the wavesX
Wind borne there comes a requiemB
Deep chanted by a sea that lavesX
The shores they loved Oh may their gravesX
Give goodly rest and peace to themC

Roderic Quinn



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