The Gray Brother Poem Rhyme Scheme

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The Pope he was saying the high high mass	A
All on Saint Peter's day	B
With the power to him given by the saints of heaven	C
To wash men's sins away	B
	-
The Pope he was saying the blessed mass	A
And the people kneel'd around	D
And from each man's soul his sins did pass	A
As he kiss'd the holy ground	D
	-
And all among the crowded throng	E
Was still both limb and tongue	F
While through vaulted roof and aisles aloof	G
The holy accents rung	F
	-
At the holiest word he quiver'd for fear	H
And falter'd in the sound	D
And when he would the chalice rear	H
He dropp'd it to the ground	D
	-
The breath of one of evil deed	I
Pollutes our sacred day	B
He has no portion in our creed	I
No part in what I say	B
	-
A being whom no blessed word	J
To ghostly peace can bring	K
A wretch at whose approach abhorr'd	L
Recoils each holy thing	K
	-
Up up unhappy haste arise	M
My adjuration fear	H
I charge thee not to stop my voice	N
Nor longer tarry here	O
	-
Amid them all a pilgrim kneel'd	L
In gown of sackcloth grey	B
Far journeying from his native field	L
He first saw Rome that day	B
	-
For forty days and nights so drear	B
I ween he had not spoke	P
And save with bread and water clear	B
His fast he ne'er had broke	P
	-
Amid the penitential flock	Q
Seem'd none more bent to pray	B
But when the Holy Father spoke	P
He rose and went his way	B
	-
Again unto his native land	L
His weary course he drew	B
To Lothian's fair and fertile strand	L
And Pentland's mountains blue	B
	-
His unblest feet his native seat	L
'Mid Eske's fair woods regain	R
Thro' woods more fair no stream more sweet	L
Rolls to the eastern main	R
	-
And lords to meet the pilgrim came	S
And vassals bent the knee	T
For all 'mid Scotland's chiefs of fame	S
Was none more famed than he	T
	-
And boldly for his country still	U
In battle he had stood	L
Ay even when on the banks of Till	U
Her noblest pour'd their blood	L
	-
Sweet are the paths O passing sweet	L
By Eske's fair streams that run	C
O'er airy steep through copsewood deep	V
Impervious to the sun	C
	-
There the rapt poet's step may rove	W
And yield the muse the day	B
There Beauty led by timid Love	X
May shun the tell tale ray	B
	-
From that fair dome where suit is paid	L
By blast of bugle free	T
To Auchendinny's hazel glade	L
And haunted Woodhouselee	U
	-
Who knows not Melville's beechy grove	W
And Roslin's rocky glen	Y
Dalkeith which all the virtues love	X
And classic Hawthornden	Y
	-
Yet never a path from day to day	B
The pilgrim's footsteps range	Z
Save but the solitary way	B
To Burndale's ruin'd grange	Z
	-
A woful place was that I ween	Y
As sorrow could desire	B
For nodding to the fall was each crumbling wall	U
And the roof was scathed with fire	B
	-
It fell upon a summer's eve	A2
While on Carnethy's head	L
The last faint gleams of the sun's low beams	B2
Had streak'd the grey with red	L
	-
And the convent bell did vespers tell	U
Newbattle's oaks among	F
And mingled with the solemn knell	U
Our Ladye's evening song	E
	-
The heavy knell the choir's faint swell	U
Came slowly down the wind	L
And on the pilgrim's ear they fell	U
As his wonted path he did find	L
	-
Deep sunk in thought I ween he was	C2
Nor ever raised his eye	D2
Until he came to that dreary place	E2
Which did all in ruins lie	D2
	-
He gazed on the walls so scathed with fire	B
With many a bitter groan	Y
And there was aware of a Gray Friar	B
Resting him on a stone	Y
	-
Now Christ thee save said the Gray Brother	B
Some pilgrim thou seemest to be	T
But in sore amaze did Lord Albert gaze	F2
Nor answer again made he	T
	-
O come ye from east or come ye from west	L
Or bring reliques from over the sea	T
Or come ye from the shrine of St James the divine	Y
Or St John of Beverley	T
	-
I come not from the shrine of St James the divine	Y
Nor bring reliques from over the sea	T
I bring but a curse from our father the Pope	G2
Which for ever will cling to me	T
	-
Now woful pilgrim say not so	H2
But kneel thee down to me	T
And shrive thee so clean of thy deadly sin	Y
That absolved thou mayst be	T
	-
	-
And who art thou thou Gray Brother	B
That I should shrive to thee	T
When He to whom are given the keys of earth and heaven	Y
Has no power to pardon me	T
	-
O I am sent from a distant clime	T
Five thousand miles away	B
And all to absolve a foul foul crime	T
Done here 'twixt night and day	B
	-
The pilgrim kneel'd him on the sand	L
And thus began his saye	B
When on his neck an ice cold hand	L
Did that Gray Brother laye	B

Walter Scott (sir)

The Gray Brother Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis

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