Beatrice Di Tenda. Poem Rhyme Scheme

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	A
	-
It was too sweet such dreams do ever fade	B
When Sorrow shakes the sleeper from his rest	C
Life still to me hath been a masquerade	B
Woe in Mirth's wildest gayest mantle drest	B
With the heart hidden but the face display'd	B
	-
But now the vizard droppeth crush'd and torn	D
And there is nought left but some tinsell'd rags	E
To mock the wearer in the face of morn	D
As through the gaping world she feebly drags	E
Her day born measure of reproach and scorn	D
	-
But that his hand should pluck the dream away	F
And thus and thus O Heaven it strikes too deep	G
The knife that wounds me if not meant to slay	F
Stumbles upon my heart the while I weep	G
So be it no hand of mine its course shall stay	F
	-
False false to him Release me let me go	H
Before Heaven's judgment seat to make appeal	I
Unfold the records of this life and show	H
All that the secret pages can reveal	I
That Heaven and Earth the inmost truth may know	H
	-
He cannot think it in his heart of hearts	J
He cannot wear this falsehood in his soul	K
Or deem me perjur'd no delusive arts	J
Can make him blot my name from honour's scroll	K
The sun will shine forth when the cloud departs	J
	-
Patience my heart Error is quick but Truth	L
Moves slowly but moves surely up the earth	M
Wiping from age the heresies of youth	L
And kindling warmth on the once blasted hearth	N
Patience my heart and rage will turn to ruth	L
	-
There is no blush upon my brow though tears	O
Are in mine eyes and sorrow in my heart	B
This sobbing breast heaves not with traitor fears	P
No sighs for sin are these that sadly start	B
And bear their bitter burden to thine ears	P
	-
And though my woman's strength bend like a reed	B
Before the flowing of Affliction's river	Q
Not not for shame nor for one strumpet deed	B
Doth this weak frame bow down or faintly quiver	Q
As I stand forth alone in deadly need	B
	-
No before thee Filippo and the world	B
Cased in its petty panoply of scorn	D
With myriad slavish lips in mocking curl'd	B
Spotless and innocent though most forlorn	D
Here stand I 'gainst the shafts Falsehood hath hurl'd	B
	-
	-
	-
	-
Confess'd Confess'd the guilty act What act	B
What act my Lord that cometh home to me	R
Closer than each hot word by torment rack'd	B
Flies at the bidding of false tyranny	R
That makes at will the pain wrung falsehood fact	B
	-
There are full many sins confess'd my Lord	B
In pain of body and in pain of soul	K
Some from the heart unearth'd by fire and sword	B
And stealing forth amid the spirit's dole	K
With fiery pain sweat seething every word	B
	-
But none my Lord that riseth to the sky	S
Bears guilt of mine upon its blister'd tongue	T
Though torture's fire is quick to forge a lie	S
None from these woman's lips could ere be wrung	T
No none though on the rack bed bound to die	S
	-
Poor youth This poison from his writhing throat	B
Those hellish instruments have haply drawn	U
And pain hath conn'd the aspish lies by rote	B
But to my heart no poison'd tooth hath gnawn	U
For in its pulses lies Truth's antidote	B
	-
These limbs my Lord can do their task no more	V
The rack hath crush'd them in its wild embrace	W
So that Truth's firm set attitude is o'er	Q
Else had I met my judges face to face	W
And challenged justice as in days of yore	V
	-
Yet is the spirit strong within me still	X
And bears me up though manhood's strength succumb	Y
Unbent by any blighting blast of ill	X
Through fiery trials to all false witness dumb	Y
They cannot stain me though perchance they kill	X
	-
I am a woman weak to combat wrong	Z
But innocent my Lord I live or die	S
And silent though my God doth tarry long	Z
He sees me throughly with His holy eye	S
And in my sore sore need doth make me strong	Z
	-
This hapless youth I do forgive him all	A2
E'en now remorse must rankle in his breast	B
And no cool comfort cometh at his call	A2
To set the tumult of his soul at rest	B
God's pity on his human weakness fall	A2
	-
	-
	-
	-
Nay falter not good friend thy news is sweet	B
Thanks thanks Ay sweet as is the welcome wind	B
That wafts the calm lock'd seaman smooth and fleet	B
O'er tropic seas unto his sigh'd for Ind	B
Ay Death will bring rest to my weary feet	B
	-
'Tis strange but now the word falls on mine ear	B2
Soft as the singing of a little child	B
Heaven's music on light pinions floateth near	C2
Through all the strife of Earth so harsh and wild	B
Time's stream is rippling on its marges clear	C2
	-
The end is nigh the end of grief and pain	U
And Life's broad gates are opening to my soul	K
O'er my weak heart no more shall sorrow reign	U
Enfranchised soon 'twill spurn the harsh control	K
And never feel its empiry again	U
	-
No more Filippo shall my hapless life	D2
Stand betwixt thee and pleasure Duty's knot	B
Shall soon be sever'd by the headsman's knife	D2
And upon memory one crimson blot	B
Shall be the record of a spotless wife	D2
	-
'Tis well I would not wander through a haunted mind	B
Ghost like and fearful in the evening hours	E2
Would God that I could leave my peace behind	B
To bless thee when the night of sorrow lours	E2
And thou art rifted by Affliction's wind	B
	-
Shouldst thou awake when I have pass'd away	F
Shouldst thou see clear the error and the wrong	Z
And Truth break on thee with its dazzling ray	F
As sure it will for Innocence is strong	Z
Then may my prayers thine every pang allay	F
	-
For thee poor youth go not unto the grave	F2
With a red lie upon thy trembling tongue	T
Not for myself but for thy soul I crave	F2
Death's champions should have sinews tightly strung	T
And thou wilt falter where I shall be brave	F2
	-
In that dim world there flows no cooling stream	G2
No Lethe for the guilty and the fever'd	B
There is no answer to their parching scream	G2
From hope and mercy they are ever sever'd	B
There is no waking from their spectral dream	G2
	-
Then pause or e'er thou stampest on thy soul	K
Eternally such misery as thine	U
And writest on God's conscience blasting scroll	K
A wife's dishonour and a tarnish'd line	U
To weigh for thee thine everlasting dole	K
	-
Friend let thine arm be strong good sooth there's need	B
Thou cuttest through a weary depth of woe	H
Well that will pass and soon rest come indeed	B
Ay ay the robe's white now will't long be so	H
Yet better far the crimson tide should flow	H
Than the heart inly with its anguish bleed	B

Walter R. Cassels

Beatrice Di Tenda. Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis

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