Uriconium: An Ode Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis
Rhyme Scheme: ABACDEFDEFGGHH IJIJKLMKLLNNLL OPOPLQGLQGRRGG STSTUVWUVWQQXX YZYZA2B2C2A2B2C2D2D2 C2C2 E2GE2GQLPQLF2LLPP C2YC2G2LKH2LKH2I2I2H 2H2 LJ2LJ2K2QUK2QULLUUIt lieth low near merry England's heart | A |
Like a long buried sin and Englishmen | B |
Forget that in its death their sires had part | A |
And like a sin Time lays it bare again | C |
To tell of races wronged | D |
And ancient glories suddenly overcast | E |
And treasures flung to fire and rabble wrath | F |
If thou hast ever longed | D |
To lift the gloomy curtain of Time Past | E |
And spy the secret things that Hades hath | F |
Here through this riven ground take such a view | G |
The dust that fell unnoted as a dew | G |
Wrapped the dead city's face like mummy cloth | H |
All is as was except for worm and moth | H |
- | |
Since Jove was worshipped under Wrekin's shade | I |
Or Latin phrase was writ in Shropshire stone | J |
Since Druid chaunts desponded in this glade | I |
Or Tuscan general called that field his own | J |
How long ago How long | K |
How long since wanderers in the Stretton Hills | L |
Met men of shaggy hair and savage jaw | M |
With flint and copper prong | K |
Aiming behind their dikes and thorny grilles | L |
Ah those were days before the axe and saw | L |
Then were the nights when this mid forest town | N |
Held breath to hear the wolves come yelping down | N |
And ponderous bears 'long Severn lifted paw | L |
And nuzzling boars ran grunting through the shaw | L |
- | |
Ah me full fifteen hundred times the wheat | O |
Hath risen and bowed and fallen to human hunger | P |
Since those imperial days were made complete | O |
The weary moon hath waxen old and younger | P |
These eighteen thousand times | L |
Without a shrine to greet her gentle ray | Q |
And other temples rose to Power and Pelf | G |
And chimed centurial chimes | L |
Until their very bells are worn away | Q |
While King by King lay cold on vaulted shelf | G |
And wars closed wars and many a Marmion fell | R |
And dearths and plagues holp sire and son to hell | R |
And old age stiffened many a lively elf | G |
And many a poet's heart outdrained itself | G |
- | |
I had forgot that so remote an age | S |
Beyond the horizon of our little sight | T |
Is far from us by no more spanless gauge | S |
Than day and night succeeding day and night | T |
Until I looked on Thee | U |
Thou ghost of a dead city or its husk | V |
But even as we could walk by field and hedge | W |
Hence to the distant sea | U |
So by the rote of common dawn and dusk | V |
We travel back to history's utmost edge | W |
Yea when through thy old streets I took my way | Q |
And recked a thousand years as yesterday | Q |
Methought sage fancy wrought a sacrilege | X |
To steal for me such godly privilege | X |
- | |
For here lie remnants from a banquet table | Y |
Oysters and marrow bones and seeds of grape | Z |
The statement of whose age must sound a fable | Y |
And Samian jars whose sheen and flawless shape | Z |
Look fresh from potter's mould | A2 |
Plasters with Roman finger marks impressed | B2 |
Bracelets that from the warm Italian arm | C2 |
Might seem to be scarce cold | A2 |
And spears the same that pushed the Cymry west | B2 |
Unblunted yet with tools of forge and farm | C2 |
Abandoned as a man in sudden fear | D2 |
Drops what he holds to help his swift career | D2 |
For sudden was Rome's flight and wild the alarm | C2 |
The Saxon shock was like Vesuvius' qualm | C2 |
- | |
O ye who prate of modern art and craft | E2 |
Mark well that Gaulish brooch and test that screw | G |
Art's fairest buds on antique stem are graft | E2 |
Under the sun is nothing wholly new | G |
At Viricon today | Q |
The village anvil rests on Roman base | L |
And in a garden may be seen a bower | P |
With pillars for its stay | Q |
That anciently in basilic had place | L |
The church's font is but a pagan dower | F2 |
A Temple's column hollowed into this | L |
So is the glory of our artifice | L |
Our pleasure and our worship but the flower | P |
Of Roman custom and of Roman power | P |
- | |
O ye who laugh and living as if Time | C2 |
Meant but the twelve hours ticking round your dial | Y |
Find it too short for thee watch the sublime | C2 |
Slow epochal time registers awhile | G2 |
Which are Antiquities | L |
O ye who weep and call all your life too long | K |
And moan Was ever sorrow like to mine | H2 |
Muse on the memories | L |
That sad sepulchral stones and ruins prolong | K |
Here might men drink of wonder like strong wine | H2 |
And feel ephemeral troubles soothed and curbed | I2 |
Yet farmers wroth to have their laws disturbed | I2 |
Are sooner roused for little loss to pine | H2 |
Than we are moved by mighty woes long syne | H2 |
- | |
Above this reverend ground what traveller checks | L |
Yet cities such as these one time would breed | J2 |
Apocalyptic visions of world wrecks | L |
Let Saxon men return to them and heed | J2 |
They slew and burnt | K2 |
But after prized what Rome had given away | Q |
Out of her strength and her prosperity | U |
Have they yet learnt | K2 |
The precious truth distilled from Rome's decay | Q |
Ruins On England's heart press heavily | U |
For Rome hath left us more than walls and words | L |
And better yet shall leave and more than herds | L |
Or land or gold gave the Celts to us in fee | U |
E'en Blood which makes poets sing and prophets see | U |
Wilfred Owen
(1)
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