The Grave Of Dibdin Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis
Rhyme Scheme: ABCDEFGHIJKL MNOPQRSTUVLFWXYUZA2 B2C2D2E2F2G2H2 I2GHJ2K2L2 M2N2O2JP2CEQ2R2 S2HT2Q2U2V2 VL2W2X2Y2 VR2Z2LDA3B3C3D3E3F3G 3SH3I3| Lives there who with unhallow'd hand would tear | A |
| One leaf from that immortal wreath which shades | B |
| The Hero's living brow or decks his urn | C |
| Breathes there who does not triumph in the thought | D |
| That Nelson's language is his mother tongue | E |
| And that St Vincent's country is his own | F |
| Oh these bright guerdons of renown are won | G |
| By means most palpable to sense and sight | H |
| By days of peril and by nights of toil | I |
| By Valour's long probation closed at last | J |
| In Victory's arms consummated and seal'd | K |
| In deathless Glory and immortal Fame | L |
| - | |
| Musing I stand upon his lowly grave | M |
| Who though he fought no battle though he pour'd | N |
| No hostile thunders on his country's foes | O |
| Achieved for Britain triumphs less array'd | P |
| In pomp and circumstance nor visible | Q |
| To vulgar gaze the triumphs of the Mind | R |
| He nursed the elements of courage he | S |
| Supplied the aliment that feeds and guides | T |
| The daring spirit to its high emprise | U |
| A nation's moral energies by him | V |
| Directed found a nobler end and aim | L |
| He gave that high discriminating tone | F |
| That marks the Brave from mercenary tools | W |
| Features that separate a British Crew | X |
| From hireling bravoes and from pirate hordes | Y |
| And yet no marble marks the spot where lies | U |
| The dust of DIBDIN no inscription speaks | Z |
| A Nation's gratitude a Bard's desert | A2 |
| - | |
| The youthful Sailor on his midnight watch | B2 |
| Fixing his gaze upon the tranquil moon | C2 |
| Felt his heart soften as the thoughts of home | D2 |
| Rush'd on his faithful memory then it was | E2 |
| In language meet and in appropriate strains | F2 |
| Strains which thy lyre had taught him he pour'd forth | G2 |
| The feelings of his soul and all was calm | H2 |
| - | |
| Thy Spirit still presides in that carouse | I2 |
| When to the Far away the toast is given | G |
| And absent Wives and Sweethearts claim their right | H |
| With Woman's constancy thy songs are rife | J2 |
| And this pure creed still teaches Man t' endure | K2 |
| Privations danger and each form of death | L2 |
| - | |
| When not a breath responded to the call | M2 |
| And Seamen whistled to the winds in vain | N2 |
| When the loose canvass droop'd in lazy folds | O2 |
| And idle pennants dangled from the mast | J |
| There in that trying moment thou wert found | P2 |
| To teach the hardest lesson man can learn | C |
| Passive endurance and the breeze has sprung | E |
| As if obedient to the voice of Song | Q2 |
| And yet unhonour'd here thy ashes lie | R2 |
| - | |
| A nobler lesson learn'd the gallant Tar | S2 |
| From his Orphean lyre to temper right | H |
| The lion's courage with the attributes | T2 |
| That to the gentle and the meek belong | Q2 |
| O'er fallen foes to check the eye of fire | U2 |
| O'er fallen foes to soften heart of oak | V2 |
| - | |
| He turn'd the Fatalist's rash eye to Him | V |
| In whom the issues are of life and death | L2 |
| He taught to whom the battle is to whom | W2 |
| The victory belongs His cherub that aloft | X2 |
| Kept sleepless watch was Providence not Chance | Y2 |
| - | |
| And yet no honours are decreed for him | V |
| Friend of the Brave thy memory cannot die | R2 |
| Th'inquiring voice that eagerly demands | Z2 |
| Where rest thy ashes shall preserve thy fame | L |
| Thine immortality thyself hast wrought | D |
| Familiar as the terms of art thy verse | A3 |
| Thine own peculiar words are still the mode | B3 |
| In which the Seaman aptly would express | C3 |
| His honest passions and his manly thoughts | D3 |
| His feelings kindle at thy burning words | E3 |
| Which speak his duty in the battle's front | F3 |
| His parting whisper to the maid he loves | G3 |
| Is breathed in eloquence he learned from thee | S |
| Thou art his Oracle in every mood | H3 |
| His trump of victory his lyre of love | I3 |
Thomas Gent
(1)
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About The Grave Of Dibdin
The Grave Of Dibdin is a poem by Thomas Gent. This page includes the poem text, poet information, related topics, comments, and similar poems.
