The Lost Pyx: A Mediaeval Legend Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis
Rhyme Scheme: ABCB DEFE BGHG IJKJ LMNM OPOP CQCQ RSGS TUVW XQYQ ZA2ZA2 CGGG B2GB2G C2TD2T E2GE2G F2CF2C G2QG2Q H2I2J2I2 K2CL2C| Some say the spot is banned that the pillar Cross and Hand | A |
| nbsp nbsp nbsp Attests to a deed of hell | B |
| But of else than of bale is the mystic tale | C |
| nbsp nbsp nbsp That ancient Vale folk tell | B |
| - | |
| Ere Cernel's Abbey ceased hereabout there dwelt a priest | D |
| nbsp nbsp nbsp In later life sub prior | E |
| Of the brotherhood there whose bones are now bare | F |
| nbsp nbsp nbsp In the field that was Cernel choir | E |
| - | |
| One night in his cell at the foot of yon dell | B |
| nbsp nbsp nbsp The priest heard a frequent cry | G |
| Go father in haste to the cot on the waste | H |
| nbsp nbsp nbsp And shrive a man waiting to die | G |
| - | |
| Said the priest in a shout to the caller without | I |
| nbsp nbsp nbsp The night howls the tree trunks bow | J |
| One may barely by day track so rugged a way | K |
| nbsp nbsp nbsp And can I then do so now | J |
| - | |
| No further word from the dark was heard | L |
| nbsp nbsp nbsp And the priest moved never a limb | M |
| And he slept and dreamed till a Visage seemed | N |
| nbsp nbsp nbsp To frown from Heaven at him | M |
| - | |
| In a sweat he arose and the storm shrieked shrill | O |
| nbsp nbsp nbsp And smote as in savage joy | P |
| While High Stoy trees twanged to Bubb Down Hill | O |
| nbsp nbsp nbsp And Bubb Down to High Stoy | P |
| - | |
| There seemed not a holy thing in hail | C |
| nbsp nbsp nbsp Nor shape of light or love | Q |
| From the Abbey north of Blackmore Vale | C |
| nbsp nbsp nbsp To the Abbey south thereof | Q |
| - | |
| Yet he plodded thence through the dark immense | R |
| nbsp nbsp nbsp And with many a stumbling stride | S |
| Through copse and briar climbed nigh and nigher | G |
| nbsp nbsp nbsp To the cot and the sick man's side | S |
| - | |
| When he would have unslung the Vessels uphung | T |
| nbsp nbsp nbsp To his arm in the steep ascent | U |
| He made loud moan the Pyx was gone | V |
| nbsp nbsp nbsp Of the Blessed Sacrament | W |
| - | |
| Then in dolorous dread he beat his head | X |
| nbsp nbsp nbsp No earthly prize or pelf | Q |
| Is the thing I've lost in tempest tossed | Y |
| nbsp nbsp nbsp But the Body of Christ Himself | Q |
| - | |
| He thought of the Visage his dream revealed | Z |
| nbsp nbsp nbsp And turned towards whence he came | A2 |
| Hands groping the ground along foot track and field | Z |
| nbsp nbsp nbsp And head in a heat of shame | A2 |
| - | |
| Till here on the hill betwixt vill and vill | C |
| nbsp nbsp nbsp He noted a clear straight ray | G |
| Stretching down from the sky to a spot hard by | G |
| nbsp nbsp nbsp Which shone with the light of day | G |
| - | |
| And gathered around the illumined ground | B2 |
| nbsp nbsp nbsp Were common beasts and rare | G |
| All kneeling at gaze and in pause profound | B2 |
| nbsp nbsp nbsp Attent on an object there | G |
| - | |
| 'Twas the Pyx unharmed 'mid the circling rows | C2 |
| nbsp nbsp nbsp Of Blackmore's hairy throng | T |
| Whereof were oxen sheep and does | D2 |
| nbsp nbsp nbsp And hares from the brakes among | T |
| - | |
| And badgers grey and conies keen | E2 |
| nbsp nbsp nbsp And squirrels of the tree | G |
| And many a member seldom seen | E2 |
| nbsp nbsp nbsp Of Nature's family | G |
| - | |
| The ireful winds that scoured and swept | F2 |
| nbsp nbsp nbsp Through coppice clump and dell | C |
| Within that holy circle slept | F2 |
| nbsp nbsp nbsp Calm as in hermit's cell | C |
| - | |
| Then the priest bent likewise to the sod | G2 |
| nbsp nbsp nbsp And thanked the Lord of Love | Q |
| And Blessed Mary Mother of God | G2 |
| nbsp nbsp nbsp And all the saints above | Q |
| - | |
| And turning straight with his priceless freight | H2 |
| nbsp nbsp nbsp He reached the dying one | I2 |
| Whose passing sprite had been stayed for the rite | J2 |
| nbsp nbsp nbsp Without which bliss hath none | I2 |
| - | |
| And when by grace the priest won place | K2 |
| nbsp nbsp nbsp And served the Abbey well | C |
| He reared this stone to mark where shone | L2 |
| nbsp nbsp nbsp That midnight miracle | C |
Thomas Hardy
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