Grass From The Battle-field Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis

Rhyme Scheme: ABCBD CADCEEFFFGGHIJKHIJKL FLLFMNMLLMNOLPLFLQQL RLSRLTLLLTTUU RVWFXLLVYZZYMTTMOOO FLFLA2QQA2LODO LLLLLB2B2LZC2LLC2LD2 C2C2C2D2C2D2LLE2F2G2 C2D2C2LLD2D2LC2LL LHC2HLC2C2 H2I2I2MC2I2MI2C2 LLLLLLLLLDDYY YFFLL LJ2I2I2J2L K2LK2L2L2L I2I2DDLC2I2LC2LLLC2F M2I2I2LFM2LI2FN2LLN2 O2O2N2O2LLMI2I2MFFLL LI2

Small sheafA
Of withered grass that hast not yet revealedB
Thy story lo I see thee once more greenC
And growing on the battle fieldB
On that last day that ever thou didst growD
-
-
I look down thro' thy blades and see betweenC
A little lifted clover leafA
Stand like a cresset and I knowD
If this were morn there should be seenC
In its chalice such a gemE
As decks no mortal diademE
Poised with a lapidary skillF
Which merely living doth fulfilF
And pass the exquisite strain of subtlest human willF
But in the sun it lifteth upG
A dry unjewelled cupG
Therefore I see that day doth not beginH
And yet I know its beaming lordI
Hath not yet passed the hill of noonJ
Or thy lush bladesK
Would be more dry and thinH
And every blade a thirsty swordI
Edged with the sharp desire that soonJ
Should draw the silver blood of all the shadesK
I feel 't is summer This whereon I standL
Is not a hill nor as I think a valeF
The soil is soft upon the generous landL
Yet not as where the meeting streams take handL
Under the mossy mantle of the daleF
Such grass is for the meadow If I tryM
To lift my heavy eyelids as in dreamsN
A power is on them and I know not whyM
Thou art but part the whole is unconfestL
Beholding thee I long to know the restL
As one expands the bosom with a sighM
I stretch my sight's horizon but it seemsN
Ere it can widen round the mysteryO
To close in swift contraction like the breastL
The air is held as by a charmP
In an enforc d silence as like soundL
As the dead man the living 'T is so stillF
I listen for it loudL
And when I force my eyes from thy sole placeQ
And see a wider spaceQ
Above aroundL
In ragged glory like a tornR
And golden natured cloudL
O'er the dim field a living smoke is warmS
As in a city on a sabbath mornR
The hot and summer sunshine goes abroadL
Swathed in the murky airT
As if a godL
Enrobed himself in common flesh and bloodL
Our heavy flesh and bloodL
And here and thereT
As unawareT
Thro' the dull lagging limbs of mortal makeU
That keep unequal time the swifter essence brakeU
-
-
But hark a bugle hornR
And ere it ceases such a shockV
As if the plain were iron and thereonW
An iron hammer heavy as a hillF
Swung by a monstrous force in stroke came downX
And deafened Heaven I feel a swoundL
Of every sense bestunnedL
The rent ground seems to rockV
And all the definite vision in such wiseY
As a dead giant borne on a swift riverZ
Seems sliding off for everZ
When my reviving eyesY
As one that holds a spirit by his eyeM
With set inexorable stareT
Fix thee and so I catch as by the hairT
The form of that great dream that else had drifted byM
I know not what that form may beO
The lock I hold is all I seeO
And thou small sheaf art all the battle field to meO
-
-
The wounded silence hath not time to healF
When see upon thy sodL
The round stroke of a charger's heelF
With echoing thunder shodL
As the night lightning showsA2
A mole upon a momentary faceQ
So as that gnarled hoof strikes the indented placeQ
I see it and it goesA2
And I hear the squadrons trot thro' the heavy shell and shotL
And wheugh but the grass is goryO
Forward ho blow to blow at the foe in they goD
And 'tis hieover heigho for gloryO
-
-
The rushing storm is pastL
But hark upon its track the far drums beatL
And all the earth that at thy roots thou hastL
Stirs shakes shocks sounds with quick strong tramp of feetL
In time unlike the lastL
Footing to tap of drumB2
The charging columns comeB2
And as they come their mighty martial soundL
Blows on before them as a flaming fireZ
Blows in the wind for as old Mars in ireC2
Strode o'er the world encompassed in a cloudL
So the swift legion o'er the quaking groundL
Strode in a noise of battle Nigh and nigherC2
I heard it like the long swell gathering loudL
What time a land wind blowing from the mainD2
Blows to the burst of fury and is o'erC2
As if an ocean on one fatal shoreC2
Fell in a moment whole and threw its roarC2
Whole to the further sea and as the strainD2
Of my strong sense cracked in the deafened earC2
And all the rushing tumult of the plainD2
Topped its great arch above me a swift footL
Was struck between thy blades to the struck rootL
And lifted as into a sheathE2
A sudden sword is thrust and drawn againF2
Ere one can gasp a breathG2
I was so nearC2
I saw the wrinkles of the leather grainD2
The very cobbler's stitches and the wearC2
By which I knew the wearer trod not straightL
An honest shoe it seemed that had been goodL
To mete the miles of any country laneD2
Nor did one sign explainD2
'T was made to wade thro' bloodL
My shoe soft footstooled on this hearth so farC2
From strife hath such a patch and as he pastL
His broken shoelace whipt his eager hasteL
-
-
An honest shoe good faith that might have stoodL
Upon the threshold of a village innH
And welcomed all the world or by the byreC2
And barn gone peaceful till the day closed inH
And scraped at eve upon some homely gateL
Ah Heaven might sit beside a cottage fireC2
And touch the lazy log to softer flames than warC2
-
-
Long long thou wert aloneH2
I thought thy days were doneI2
Flat as ignoble grass that lies out mownI2
By peaceful hands in June I saw thee lieM
A worm crawled o'er thee and the gossamerC2
That telegraphs Queen Mab to OberonI2
Lengthening his living message passed thee byM
But rain fell and thy strawed blades one by oneI2
Began to stir and stirC2
-
-
And as some moorland birdL
Whom the still hunter's stalking steps have stirredL
When he stands mute and nothing more is heardL
With slow succession and reluctant artL
Grows upward from her bedL
Each move a muffled startL
And thro' the silent autumn covert redL
Uplifts a throbbing headL
That times the ambushed hunter's thudding heartL
Or as a snow drop bending lowD
Beneath a flake of other snowD
Thaws to its height when spring winds melt the skiesY
And drip by drip doth mete a measured riseY
-
-
Or as the eyelids of a child's fair eyesY
Lift from her lower lashes slow and paleF
To arch the wonder of a fairy taleF
So thro' the western lightL
I saw thee slowly rearing to thy heightL
-
-
Then when thou hadst regained thy stateL
And while a meadow spider with three linesJ2
Enschemed thy three tall pillars greenI2
And made the enchanted air betweenI2
Mortal with shining signsJ2
For the loud carrion flies were many and lateL
-
-
Betwixt thy blades and stemsK2
There fell a handL
Soft small and white and ringed with gold and gemsK2
And on those stones of priceL2
I saw a proud deviceL2
And words I could not understandL
-
-
Idly one by oneI2
The knots of anguish came undoneI2
The fingers stretched as from a cramp of woeD
And sweet and slowD
Moved to gracious shapes of restL
Like a curl of soft pale hairC2
Drying in the sunI2
And then they spreadL
And sought a wonted greeting in the airC2
And strayedL
Between thy blades and with each bladeL
As with meeting fingers playedL
And tresses long and fairC2
Then again at placid length it layF
Stretched as to kisses of accustomed lipsM2
And again in sudden strainI2
Sprang falling clenched with painI2
Till the knuckles whiteL
Thro' the evening grayF
Whitened and whitened as the snowy tipsM2
Of far hills glimmer thro' the nightL
But who shall tell that agonyI2
That beat thee beat thee into bloody clayF
Red as the sards and rubies of the ringsN2
As when a bird fast by the fowler's netL
A moment doth forgetL
His fetters and with desperate wingsN2
A sudden springs and fallsO2
And while from happy clouds the skylark callsO2
Still feebler springsN2
And fainter fallsO2
And still untamed upon the gory groundL
With failing strength renews his deadly woundL
At length the struggle ceased and my fixed eyeM
Perceived that every finger wanI2
Did quiver like the quivering fanI2
Of a dying butterflyM
Nor long I watched untilF
Even the humming in the air was stillF
Then I gazed and gazedL
Nor once my aching eyeballs raisedL
Till a poor bird that had a meadow nestL
Came downI2

Sydney Thompson Dobell



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