Nelson, Pitt, Fox Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis
Rhyme Scheme: AABCDDEE FFGGHHII JJKKLMNNOO PQOREEKKRRKKMMSSTU RRVVWWMMXXFF WWWWWWWWYYWWWWZA2B2 KKC2IWWWWMMFFKKWWAAD 2D2E2E2MMWWWWXXKKWWW WKKWW WWF2F2OG2WWMMKKKKH2H 2MMWWA2B2WWKKIIMTo mute and to material things | A |
New life revolving summer brings | A |
The genial call dead Nature hears | B |
And in her glory reappears | C |
But oh my Country's wintry state | D |
What second spring shall renovate | D |
What powerful call shall bid arise | E |
The buried warlike and the wise | E |
- | |
The mind that thought for Britain's weal | F |
The hand that grasp'd the victor steel | F |
The vernal sun new life bestows | G |
Even on the meanest flower that blows | G |
But vainly vainly may he shine | H |
Where glory weeps o'er Nelson's shrine | H |
And vainly pierce the solemn gloom | I |
That shrouds O Pitt thy hallow'd tomb | I |
- | |
Deep graved in every British heart | J |
O never let those names depart | J |
Say to your sons Lo here his grave | K |
Who victor died on Gadite wave | K |
To him as to the burning levin | L |
Short bright resistless course was given | M |
Where'er his country's foes were found | N |
Was heard the fated thunder's sound | N |
Till burst the bolt on yonder shore | O |
Roll'd blazed destroy'd and was no more | O |
- | |
Nor mourn ye less his perish'd worth | P |
Who bade the conqueror go forth | Q |
And launch'd that thunderbolt of war | O |
On Egypt Hafnia Trafalgar | R |
Who born to guide such high emprise | E |
For Britain's weal was early wise | E |
Alas to whom the Almighty gave | K |
For Britain's sins an early grave | K |
His worth who in his mightiest hour | R |
A bauble held the pride of power | R |
Spurn'd at the sordid lust of pelf | K |
And served his Albion for herself | K |
Who when the frantic crowd amain | M |
Strain'd at subjection's bursting rein | M |
O'er their wild mood full conquest gain'd | S |
The pride he would not crush restrain'd | S |
Show'd their fierce zeal a worthier cause | T |
And brought the freeman's arm to aid the freeman's laws | U |
- | |
Hadst thou but lived though stripp'd of power | R |
A watchman on the lonely tower | R |
Thy thrilling trump had roused the land | V |
When fraud or danger were at hand | V |
By thee as by the beacon light | W |
Our pilots had kept course aright | W |
As some proud column though alone | M |
Thy strength had propp'd the tottering throne | M |
Now is the stately column broke | X |
The beacon light is quench'd in smoke | X |
The trumpet's silver voice is still | F |
The warder silent on the hill | F |
- | |
O think how to his latest day | W |
When Death just hovering claim'd his prey | W |
With Palinure's unalter'd mood | W |
Firm at his dangerous post he stood | W |
Each call for needful rest repell'd | W |
With dying hand the rudder held | W |
Till in his fall with fateful sway | W |
The steerage of the realm gave way | W |
Then while on Britain's thousand plains | Y |
One polluted church remains | Y |
Whose peaceful bells ne'er sent around | W |
The bloody tocsin's maddening sound | W |
But still upon the hallow'd day | W |
Convoke the swains to praise and pray | W |
While faith and civil peace are dear | Z |
Grace this cold marble with a tear | A2 |
He who preserved them Pitt lies here | B2 |
- | |
Nor yet suppress the generous sigh | K |
Because his rival slumbers nigh | K |
Nor be thy Requiescat dumb | C2 |
Lest it be said o'er Fox's tomb | I |
For talents mourn untimely lost | W |
When best employ'd and wanted most | W |
Mourn genius high and lore profound | W |
And wit that loved to play not wound | W |
And all the reasoning powers divine | M |
To penetrate resolve combine | M |
And feelings keen and fancy's glow | F |
They sleep with him who sleeps below | F |
And if thou mourn'st they could not save | K |
From error him who owns this grave | K |
Be every harsher thought suppress'd | W |
And sacred be the last long rest | W |
Here where the end of earthly things | A |
Lays heroes patriots bards and kings | A |
Where stiff the hand and still the tongue | D2 |
Of those who fought and spoke and sung | D2 |
Here where the fretted vaults prolong | E2 |
The distant notes of holy song | E2 |
As if some angel spoke agen | M |
'All peace on earth good will to men' | M |
If ever from an English heart | W |
O here let prejudice depart | W |
And partial feeling cast aside | W |
Record that Fox a Briton died | W |
When Europe crouch'd to France's yoke | X |
And Austria bent and Prussia broke | X |
And the firm Russian's purpose brave | K |
Was barter'd by a timorous slave | K |
Even then dishonour's peace he spurn'd | W |
The sullied olive branch return'd | W |
Stood for his country's glory fast | W |
And nail'd her colours to the mast | W |
Heaven to reward his firmness gave | K |
A portion in this honour'd grave | K |
And ne'er held marble in its trust | W |
Of two such wondrous men the dust | W |
- | |
With more than mortal powers endow'd | W |
How high they soar'd above the crowd | W |
Theirs was no common party race | F2 |
Jostling by dark intrigue for place | F2 |
Like fabled gods their mighty war | O |
Shook realms and nations in its jar | G2 |
Beneath each banner proud to stand | W |
Look'd up the noblest of the land | W |
Till through the British world were known | M |
The names of Pitt and Fox alone | M |
Spells of such force no wizard grave | K |
E'er framed in dark Thessalian cave | K |
Though his could drain the ocean dry | K |
And force the planets from the sky | K |
These spells are spent and spent with these | H2 |
The wine of life is on the lees | H2 |
Genius and taste and talent gone | M |
For ever tomb'd beneath the stone | M |
Where taming thought to human pride | W |
The mighty chiefs sleep side by side | W |
Drop upon Fox's grave the tear | A2 |
'Twill trickle to his rival's bier | B2 |
O'er Pitt's the mournful requiem sound | W |
And Fox's shall the notes rebound | W |
The solemn echo seems to cry | K |
'Here let their discord with them die | K |
Speak not for those a separate doom | I |
Whom fate made Brothers in the tomb | I |
But search the land of living men | M |
Where wilt thou find their like agen ' | - |
Walter Scott (sir)
(1)
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