The Poet's Dream (sequel To The Norman Boy) Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis


Just as those final words were penned the sun broke out in powerA
And gladdened all things but as chanced within that very hourA
Air blackened thunder growled fire flashed from clouds that hid the skyB
And for the Subject of my Verse I heaved a pensive sighB
Nor could my heart by second thoughts from heaviness be clearedC
For bodied forth before my eyes the cross crowned hut appearedC
And while around it storm as fierce seemed troubling earth and airD
I saw within the Norman Boy kneeling alone in prayerD
The Child as if the thunder's voice spake with articulate callE
Bowed meekly in submissive fear before the Lord of AllE
His lips were moving and his eyes up raised to sue for graceF
With soft illumination cheered the dimness of that placeF
How beautiful is holiness what wonder if the sightG
Almost as vivid as a dream produced a dream at nightG
It came with sleep and showed the Boy no cherub not transformedH
But the poor ragged Thing whose ways my human heart had warmedH
Me had the dream equipped with wings so I took him in my armsI
And lifted from the grassy floor stilling his faint alarmsI
And bore him high through yielding air my debt of love to payJ
By giving him for both our sakes an hour of holidayJ
I whispered Yet a little while dear Child thou art my ownK
To show thee some delightful thing in country or in townL
What shall it be a mirthful throng or that holy place and calmM
St Denis filled with royal tombs or the Church of Notre DameN
St Ouen's golden Shrine Or choose what else would please thee mostO
Of any wonder Normandy or all proud France can boastO
My Mother said the Boy was born near to a blessed TreeP
The Chapel Oak of Allonville good Angel show it meP
On wings from broad and steadfast poise let loose by this replyB
For Allonville o'er down and dale away then did we flyB
O'er town and tower we flew and fields in May's fresh verdure drestO
The wings they did not flag the Child though grave was not deprestO
But who shall show to waking sense the gleam of light that brokeQ
Forth from his eyes when first the Boy looked down on that huge oakQ
For length of days so much revered so famous where it standsR
For twofold hallowing Nature's care and work of human handsR
Strong as an Eagle with my charge I glided round and roundO
The wide spread boughs for view of door window and stair that woundO
Gracefully up the gnarled trunk nor left we unsurveyedO
The pointed steeple peering forth from the centre of the shadeO
I lighted opened with soft touch the chapel's iron doorS
Past softly leading in the Boy and while from roof to floorS
From floor to roof all round his eyes the Child with wonder castO
Pleasure on pleasure crowded in each livelier than the lastO
For deftly framed within the trunk the sanctuary showedO
By light of lamp and precious stones that glimmered here there glowedO
Shrine Altar Image Offerings hung in sign of gratitudeO
Sight that inspired accordant thoughts and speech I thus renewedO
Hither the Afflicted come as thou hast heard thy Mother sayJ
And kneeling supplication make to our Lady de la PaixJ
What mournful sighs have here been heard and when the voice was stoptO
By sudden pangs what bitter tears have on this pavement droptO
Poor Shepherd of the naked Down a favoured lot is thineT
Far happier lot dear Boy than brings full many to this shrineT
From body pains and pains of soul thou needest no releaseJ
Thy hours as they flow on are spent if not in joy in peaceJ
Then offer up thy heart to God in thankfulness and praiseJ
Give to Him prayers and many thoughts in thy most busy daysJ
And in His sight the fragile Cross on thy small hut will beP
Holy as that which long hath crowned the Chapel of this TreeP
Holy as that far seen which crowns the sumptuous Church in RomeU
Where thousands meet to worship God under a mighty DomeU
He sees the bending multitude he hears the choral ritesJ
Yet not the less in children's hymns and lonely prayer delightsJ
God for his service needeth not proud work of human skillV
They please him best who labour most to do in peace his willV
So let us strive to live and to our Spirits will be givenW
Such wings as when our Saviour calls shall bear us up to heavenW
The Boy no answer made by words but so earnest was his lookX
Sleep fled and with it fled the dream recorded in this bookX
Lest all that passed should melt away in silence from my mindO
As visions still more bright have done and left no trace behindO
But oh that Country man of thine whose eye loved Child can seeP
A pledge of endless bliss in acts of early pietyP
In verse which to thy ear might come would treat this simple themeY
Nor leave untold our happy flight in that adventurous dreamY
Alas the dream to thee poor Boy to thee from whom it flowedO
Was nothing scarcely can be aught yet 'twas bounteously bestowedO
If I may dare to cherish hope that gentle eyes will readO
Not loth and listening Little ones heart touched their fancies feed nbspJ

William Wordsworth


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