Uriconium: An Ode Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis

Rhyme Scheme: ABACDEFDEFGGHH IJIJKLMKLLNNLL OPOPLQGLQGRRGG STSTUVWUVWQQXX YZYZA2B2C2A2B2C2D2D2 C2C2 E2GE2GQLPQLF2LLPP C2YC2G2LKH2LKH2I2I2H 2H2 LJ2LJ2K2QUK2QULLUU

It lieth low near merry England's heartA
Like a long buried sin and EnglishmenB
Forget that in its death their sires had partA
And like a sin Time lays it bare againC
To tell of races wrongedD
And ancient glories suddenly overcastE
And treasures flung to fire and rabble wrathF
If thou hast ever longedD
To lift the gloomy curtain of Time PastE
And spy the secret things that Hades hathF
Here through this riven ground take such a viewG
The dust that fell unnoted as a dewG
Wrapped the dead city's face like mummy clothH
All is as was except for worm and mothH
-
Since Jove was worshipped under Wrekin's shadeI
Or Latin phrase was writ in Shropshire stoneJ
Since Druid chaunts desponded in this gladeI
Or Tuscan general called that field his ownJ
How long ago How longK
How long since wanderers in the Stretton HillsL
Met men of shaggy hair and savage jawM
With flint and copper prongK
Aiming behind their dikes and thorny grillesL
Ah those were days before the axe and sawL
Then were the nights when this mid forest townN
Held breath to hear the wolves come yelping downN
And ponderous bears 'long Severn lifted pawL
And nuzzling boars ran grunting through the shawL
-
Ah me full fifteen hundred times the wheatO
Hath risen and bowed and fallen to human hungerP
Since those imperial days were made completeO
The weary moon hath waxen old and youngerP
These eighteen thousand timesL
Without a shrine to greet her gentle rayQ
And other temples rose to Power and PelfG
And chimed centurial chimesL
Until their very bells are worn awayQ
While King by King lay cold on vaulted shelfG
And wars closed wars and many a Marmion fellR
And dearths and plagues holp sire and son to hellR
And old age stiffened many a lively elfG
And many a poet's heart outdrained itselfG
-
I had forgot that so remote an ageS
Beyond the horizon of our little sightT
Is far from us by no more spanless gaugeS
Than day and night succeeding day and nightT
Until I looked on TheeU
Thou ghost of a dead city or its huskV
But even as we could walk by field and hedgeW
Hence to the distant seaU
So by the rote of common dawn and duskV
We travel back to history's utmost edgeW
Yea when through thy old streets I took my wayQ
And recked a thousand years as yesterdayQ
Methought sage fancy wrought a sacrilegeX
To steal for me such godly privilegeX
-
For here lie remnants from a banquet tableY
Oysters and marrow bones and seeds of grapeZ
The statement of whose age must sound a fableY
And Samian jars whose sheen and flawless shapeZ
Look fresh from potter's mouldA2
Plasters with Roman finger marks impressedB2
Bracelets that from the warm Italian armC2
Might seem to be scarce coldA2
And spears the same that pushed the Cymry westB2
Unblunted yet with tools of forge and farmC2
Abandoned as a man in sudden fearD2
Drops what he holds to help his swift careerD2
For sudden was Rome's flight and wild the alarmC2
The Saxon shock was like Vesuvius' qualmC2
-
O ye who prate of modern art and craftE2
Mark well that Gaulish brooch and test that screwG
Art's fairest buds on antique stem are graftE2
Under the sun is nothing wholly newG
At Viricon todayQ
The village anvil rests on Roman baseL
And in a garden may be seen a bowerP
With pillars for its stayQ
That anciently in basilic had placeL
The church's font is but a pagan dowerF2
A Temple's column hollowed into thisL
So is the glory of our artificeL
Our pleasure and our worship but the flowerP
Of Roman custom and of Roman powerP
-
O ye who laugh and living as if TimeC2
Meant but the twelve hours ticking round your dialY
Find it too short for thee watch the sublimeC2
Slow epochal time registers awhileG2
Which are AntiquitiesL
O ye who weep and call all your life too longK
And moan Was ever sorrow like to mineH2
Muse on the memoriesL
That sad sepulchral stones and ruins prolongK
Here might men drink of wonder like strong wineH2
And feel ephemeral troubles soothed and curbedI2
Yet farmers wroth to have their laws disturbedI2
Are sooner roused for little loss to pineH2
Than we are moved by mighty woes long syneH2
-
Above this reverend ground what traveller checksL
Yet cities such as these one time would breedJ2
Apocalyptic visions of world wrecksL
Let Saxon men return to them and heedJ2
They slew and burntK2
But after prized what Rome had given awayQ
Out of her strength and her prosperityU
Have they yet learntK2
The precious truth distilled from Rome's decayQ
Ruins On England's heart press heavilyU
For Rome hath left us more than walls and wordsL
And better yet shall leave and more than herdsL
Or land or gold gave the Celts to us in feeU
E'en Blood which makes poets sing and prophets seeU

Wilfred Owen



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