Blind Old Milton Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis
Rhyme Scheme: ABABCBCDCDEDEFEFGFHI G IJIJKJKLKLMLMNMNONOP OQRPROROAOASA STSTOTOUOVWUWXWXOYOF OFZKZOZOOOOYOYAYAA2A A2OB2OC2O C2D2C2D2E2D2E2F2E2F2 KF2FUFUHUHC2H C2G2C2G2OH2OI2OI2J2I 2K2L2K2L2M2L2ED2M2D2 A2D2A2FA2KOFOUON2ON2 OO2OO2A2O2 A2P2A2Q2OP2OOO OOOOR2OS2OAOEOE| Place me once more my daughter where the sun | A |
| May shine upon my old and time worn head | B |
| For the last time perchance My race is run | A |
| And soon amidst the ever silent dead | B |
| I must repose it may be half forgot | C |
| Yes I have broke the hard and bitter bread | B |
| For many a year and with those who trembled not | C |
| To buckle on their armor for the fight | D |
| And set themselves against the tyrant's lot | C |
| And I have never bowed me to his might | D |
| Nor knelt before him for I bear within | E |
| My heart the sternest consciousness of right | D |
| And that perpetual hate of gilded sin | E |
| Which made me what I am and though the stain | F |
| Of poverty be on me yet I win | E |
| More honor by it than the blinded train | F |
| Who hug their willing servitude and bow | G |
| Unto the weakest and the most profane | F |
| Therefore with unencumbered soul I go | H |
| Before the footstool of my Maker where | I |
| I hope to stand as undebased as now | G |
| - | |
| Child is the sun abroad I feel my hair | I |
| Borne up and wafted by the gentle wind | J |
| I feel the odors that perfume the air | I |
| And hear the rustling of the leaves behind | J |
| Within my heart I picture them and then | K |
| I almost can forget that I am blind | J |
| And old and hated by my fellow men | K |
| Yet would I fain once more behold the grace | L |
| Of nature ere I die and gaze again | K |
| Upon her living and rejoicing face | L |
| Fain would I see thy countenance my child | M |
| My comforter I feel thy dear embrace | L |
| I hear thy voice so musical and mild | M |
| The patient sole interpreter by whom | N |
| So many years of sadness are beguiled | M |
| For it hath made my small and scanty room | N |
| Peopled with glowing visions of the past | O |
| But I will calmly bend me to my doom | N |
| And wait the hour which is approaching fast | O |
| When triple light shall stream upon mine eyes | P |
| And heaven itself be opened up at last | O |
| To him who dared foretell its mysteries | Q |
| I have had visions in this drear eclipse | R |
| Of outward consciousness and clomb the skies | P |
| Striving to utter with my earthly lips | R |
| What the diviner soul had half divined | O |
| Even as the Saint in his Apocalypse | R |
| Who saw the inmost glory where enshrined | O |
| Sat He who fashioned glory This hath driven | A |
| All outward strife and tumult from my mind | O |
| And humbled me until I have forgiven | A |
| My bitter enemies and only seek | S |
| To find the straight and narrow path to heaven | A |
| - | |
| Yet I am weak oh how entirely weak | S |
| For one who may not love nor suffer more | T |
| Sometimes unbidden tears will wet my cheek | S |
| And my heart bound as keenly as of yore | T |
| Responsive to a voice now hushed to rest | O |
| Which made the beautiful Italian shore | T |
| In all its pomp of summer vineyards drest | O |
| And Eden and a Paradise to me | U |
| Do the sweet breezes from the balmy west | O |
| Still murmur through thy groves Parthenope | V |
| In search of odors from the orange bowers | W |
| Still on thy slopes of verdure does the bee | U |
| Cull her rare honey from the virgin flowers | W |
| And Philomel her plaintive chaunt prolong | X |
| 'Neath skies more calm and more serene than ours | W |
| Making the summer one perpetual song | X |
| Art thou the same as when in manhood's pride | O |
| I walked in joy thy grassy meads among | Y |
| With that fair youthful vision by my side | O |
| In whose bright eyes I looked and not in vain | F |
| O my ador d angel O my bride | O |
| Despite of years and woe and want and pain | F |
| My soul yearns back towards thee and I seem | Z |
| To wander with thee hand in hand again | K |
| By the bright margins of that flowing stream | Z |
| I hear again thy voice more silver sweet | O |
| Than fancied music floating in a dream | Z |
| Possess my being from afar I greet | O |
| The waving of thy garments in the glade | O |
| And the light rustling of thy fairy feet | O |
| What time as one half eager half afraid | O |
| Love's burning secret faltered on my tongue | Y |
| And tremulous looks and broken words betrayed | O |
| The secret of the heart from whence they sprung | Y |
| Ah me the earth that rendered thee to heaven | A |
| Gave up an angel beautiful and young | Y |
| Spotless and pure as snow when freshly driven | A |
| A bright Aurora for the starry sphere | A2 |
| Where all is love and even life forgiven | A |
| Bride of immortal beauty ever dear | A2 |
| Dost thou await me in thy blest abode | O |
| While I Tithonus like must linger here | B2 |
| And count each step along the rugged road | O |
| A phantom tottering to a long made grave | C2 |
| And eager to lay down my weary load | O |
| - | |
| I who was fancy's lord am fancy's slave | C2 |
| Like the low murmurs of the Indian shell | D2 |
| Ta'en from its coral bed beneath the wave | C2 |
| Which unforgetful of the ocean's swell | D2 |
| Retains within its mystic urn the hum | E2 |
| Heard in the sea grots where Nereids dwell | D2 |
| Old thoughts still haunt me unawares they come | E2 |
| Between me and my rest nor can I make | F2 |
| Those aged visitors of sorrow dumb | E2 |
| Oh yet awhile my feeble soul awake | F2 |
| Nor wander back with sullen steps again | K |
| For neither pleasant pastime canst thou take | F2 |
| In such a journey nor endure the pain | F |
| The phantoms of the past are dead for thee | U |
| So let them ever uninvoked remain | F |
| And be thou calm till death shall set thee free | U |
| Thy flowers of hope expanded long ago | H |
| Long since their blossoms withered on the tree | U |
| No second spring can come to make them blow | H |
| But in the silent winter of the grave | C2 |
| They lie with blighted love and buried woe | H |
| - | |
| I did not waste the gifts which nature gave | C2 |
| Nor slothful lay in the Circean bower | G2 |
| Nor did I yield myself the willing slave | C2 |
| Of lust for pride for riches or for power | G2 |
| No in my heart a nobler spirit dwelt | O |
| For constant was my faith in manhood's dower | H2 |
| Man made in God's own image and I felt | O |
| How of our own accord we courted shame | I2 |
| Until to idols like ourselves we knelt | O |
| And so renounced the great and glorious claim | I2 |
| Of freedom our immortal heritage | J2 |
| I saw how bigotry with spiteful aim | I2 |
| Smote at the searching eyesight of the sage | K2 |
| How Error stole behind the steps of Truth | L2 |
| And cast delusion on the sacred page | K2 |
| So as a champion even in early youth | L2 |
| I waged by battle with a purpose keen | M2 |
| Nor feared the hand of terror nor the tooth | L2 |
| Of serpent jealousy And I have been | E |
| With starry Galileo in his cell | D2 |
| That wise magician with the brow serene | M2 |
| Who fathomed space and I have seen him tell | D2 |
| The wonders of the planetary sphere | A2 |
| And trace the ramparts of heaven's citadel | D2 |
| On the cold flag stones of his dungeon drear | A2 |
| And I have walked with Hampden and with Vane | F |
| Names once so gracious to an English ear | A2 |
| In days that never may return again | K |
| My voice though not the loudest hath been heard | O |
| Whenever freedom raised her cry of pain | F |
| And the faint effort of the humble bard | O |
| Hath roused up thousands from their lethargy | U |
| To speak in words of thunder What reward | O |
| Was mine or theirs It matters not for I | N2 |
| am but a leaf cast on the whirling tide | O |
| Without a hope or wish except to die | N2 |
| But truth asserted once must still abide | O |
| Unquenchable as are those fiery springs | O2 |
| Which day and night gush from the mountain side | O |
| Perpetual meteors girt with lambent wings | O2 |
| Which the wild tempest tosses to and fro | A2 |
| But cannot conquer with the force it brings | O2 |
| - | |
| Yet I who ever felt another's woe | A2 |
| More keenly than my own untold distress | P2 |
| I who have battled with the common foe | A2 |
| And broke for years the bread of bitterness | Q2 |
| Who never yet abandoned or betrayed | O |
| The trust vouchsafed me nor have ceased to bless | P2 |
| Am left alone to wither in the shade | O |
| A weak old man deserted by his kind | O |
| Whom none will comfort in his age nor aid | O |
| - | |
| Oh let me not repine A quiet mind | O |
| Conscious and upright needs no other stay | O |
| Nor can I grieve for what I leave behind | O |
| In the rich promise of eternal day | O |
| Henceforth to me the world is dead and gone | R2 |
| Its thorns unfelt its roses cast away | O |
| And the old pilgrim weary and alone | S2 |
| Bowed down with travel at his Master's gate | O |
| Now sits his task of life long labor done | A |
| Thankful for rest although it comes so late | O |
| After sore journey through the world of sin | E |
| In hope and prayer and wistfulness to wait | O |
| Until the door shall ope and let him in | E |
William Edmondstoune Aytoun
(1)
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About Blind Old Milton
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