The Brothers Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis

Rhyme Scheme: ABCDEBFBGHIJKLMNOPQR SOTUVWXSOYZA2UCB2LC2 CD2E2F2G2H2I2J2K2L2M 2N2O2OP2Q2H2BD2R2S2K 2T2U2V2W2L2RHZX2GY2Z 2BA3HB3C3D3E3K2TF3Y2 G3H3OI3TC3FJ3K3L3B2M 3N3E3EO3P3Q3R3T2PN3F S3B2SRT3BGL3IPJ2S3U3 V3L3L3W3NFT2TOX3C3Q3 FY3TZ3T3A4B4C4D4E4TF 4BD3P3FBJ2OL2J2J2C3G 4H4D4V2EQ3A2I4J2L3B4 J4K4TJ2L4L2J2C3J2U3M 4J2R2J2FJ2H2N4O4B

'These Tourists heaven preserve us needs must liveA
A profitable life some glance alongB
Rapid and gay as if the earth were airC
And they were butterflies to wheel aboutD
Long as the summer lasted some as wiseE
Perched on the forehead of a jutting cragB
Pencil in hand and book upon the kneeF
Will look and scribble scribble on and lookB
Until a man might travel twelve stout milesG
Or reap an acre of his neighbour's cornH
But for that moping Son of IdlenessI
Why can he tarry 'yonder' In our churchyardJ
Is neither epitaph nor monumentK
Tombstone nor name only the turf we treadL
And a few natural graves 'M
To Jane his wifeN
Thus spake the homely Priest of EnnerdaleO
It was a July evening and he sateP
Upon the long stone seat beneath the eavesQ
Of his old cottage as it chanced that dayR
Employed in winter's work Upon the stoneS
His wife sate near him teasing matted woolO
While from the twin cards toothed with glittering wireT
He fed the spindle of his youngest childU
Who in the open air with due accordV
Of busy hands and back and forward stepsW
Her large round wheel was turning Towards the fieldX
In which the Parish Chapel stood aloneS
Girt round with a bare ring of mossy wallO
While half an hour went by the Priest had sentY
Many a long look of wonder and at lastZ
Risen from his seat beside the snow white ridgeA2
Of carded wool which the old man had piledU
He laid his implements with gentle careC
Each in the other locked and down the pathB2
That from his cottage to the church yard ledL
He took his way impatient to accostC2
The Stranger whom he saw still lingering thereC
'Twas one well known to him in former daysD2
A Shepherd lad who ere his sixteenth yearE2
Had left that calling tempted to entrustF2
His expectations to the fickle windsG2
And perilous waters with the marinersH2
A fellow mariner and so had faredI2
Through twenty seasons but he had been rearedJ2
Among the mountains and he in his heartK2
Was half a shepherd on the stormy seasL2
Oft in the piping shrouds had Leonard heardM2
The tones of waterfalls and inland soundsN2
Of caves and trees and when the regular windO2
Between the tropics filled the steady sailO
And blew with the same breath through days and weeksP2
Lengthening invisibly its weary lineQ2
Along the cloudless Main he in those hoursH2
Of tiresome indolence would often hangB
Over the vessel's side and gaze and gazeD2
And while the broad blue wave and sparkling foamR2
Flashed round him images and hues that wroughtS2
In union with the employment of his heartK2
He thus by feverish passion overcomeT2
Even with the organs of his bodily eyeU2
Below him in the bosom of the deepV2
Saw mountains saw the forms of sheep that grazedW2
On verdant hills with dwellings among treesL2
And shepherds clad in the same country greyR
Which he himself had wornH
And now at lastZ
From perils manifold with some small wealthX2
Acquired by traffic 'mid the Indian IslesG
To his paternal home he is returnedY2
With a determined purpose to resumeZ2
The life he had lived there both for the sakeB
Of many darling pleasures and the loveA3
Which to an only brother he has borneH
In all his hardships since that happy timeB3
When whether it blew foul or fair they twoC3
Were brother shepherds on their native hillsD3
They were the last of all their race and nowE3
When Leonard had approached his home his heartK2
Failed in him and not venturing to enquireT
Tidings of one so long and dearly lovedF3
He to the solitary churchyard turnedY2
That as he knew in what particular spotG3
His family were laid he thence might learnH3
If still his Brother lived or to the fileO
Another grave was added He had foundI3
Another grave near which a full half hourT
He had remained but as he gazed there grewC3
Such a confusion in his memoryF
That he began to doubt and even to hopeJ3
That he had seen this heap of turf beforeK3
That it was not another grave but oneL3
He had forgotten He had lost his pathB2
As up the vale that afternoon he walkedM3
Through fields which once had been well known to himN3
And oh what joy this recollection nowE3
Sent to his heart he lifted up his eyesE
And looking round imagined that he sawO3
Strange alteration wrought on every sideP3
Among the woods and fields and that the rocksQ3
And everlasting hills themselves were changedR3
By this the Priest who down the field had comeT2
Unseen by Leonard at the churchyard gateP
Stopped short and thence at leisure limb by limbN3
Perused him with a gay complacencyF
Ay thought the Vicar smiling to himselfS3
'Tis one of those who needs must leave the pathB2
Of the world's business to go wild aloneS
His arms have a perpetual holidayR
The happy man will creep about the fieldsT3
Following his fancies by the hour to bringB
Tears down his cheek or solitary smilesG
Into his face until the setting sunL3
Write fool upon his forehead Planted thusI
Beneath a shed that over arched the gateP
Of this rude churchyard till the stars appearedJ2
The good Man might have communed with himselfS3
But that the Stranger who had left the graveU3
Approached he recognised the Priest at onceV3
And after greetings interchanged and givenL3
By Leonard to the Vicar as to oneL3
Unknown to him this dialogue ensuedW3
LEONARD You live Sir in these dales a quiet lifeN
Your years make up one peaceful familyF
And who would grieve and fret if welcome comeT2
And welcome gone they are so like each otherT
They cannot be remembered Scarce a funeralO
Comes to this churchyard once in eighteen monthsX3
And yet some changes must take place among youC3
And you who dwell here even among these rocksQ3
Can trace the finger of mortalityF
And see that with our threescore years and tenY3
We are not all that perish I rememberT
For many years ago I passed this roadZ3
There was a foot way all along the fieldsT3
By the brook side 'tis gone and that dark cleftA4
To me it does not seem to wear the faceB4
Which then it hadC4
PRIEST Nay Sir for aught I knowD4
That chasm is much the sameE4
LEONARD But surely yonderT
PRIEST Ay there indeed your memory is a friendF4
That does not play you false On that tall pikeB
It is the loneliest place of all these hillsD3
There were two springs which bubbled side by sideP3
As if they had been made that they might beF
Companions for each other the huge cragB
Was rent with lightning one hath disappearedJ2
The other left behind is flowing stillO
For accidents and changes such as theseL2
We want not store of them a waterspoutJ2
Will bring down half a mountain what a feastJ2
For folks that wander up and down like youC3
To see an acre's breadth of that wide cliffG4
One roaring cataract a sharp May stormH4
Will come with loads of January snowD4
And in one night send twenty score of sheepV2
To feed the ravens or a shepherd diesE
By some untoward death among the rocksQ3
The ice breaks up and sweeps away a bridgeA2
A wood is felled and then for our own homesI4
A child is born or christened a field ploughedJ2
A daughter sent to service a web spunL3
The old house clock is decked with a new faceB4
And hence so far from wanting facts or datesJ4
To chronicle the time we all have hereK4
A pair of diaries one serving SirT
For the whole dale and one for each firesideJ2
Yours was a stranger's judgment for historiansL4
Commend me to these valleysL2
LEONARD Yet your ChurchyardJ2
Seems if such freedom may be used with youC3
To say that you are heedless of the pastJ2
An orphan could not find his mother's graveU3
Here's neither head nor foot stone plate of brassM4
Cross bones nor skull type of our earthly stateJ2
Nor emblem of our hopes the dead man's homeR2
Is but a fellow to that pasture fieldJ2
PRIEST Why there Sir is a thought that's new to meF
The stone cutters 'tis true might beg their breadJ2
If every English churchyard were like oursH2
Yet your conclusion wanders from the truthN4
We have no need of names and epitaphsO4
We talkB

William Wordsworth



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