Goblins Of The Steppes Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis
Rhyme Scheme: ABABCDAD CEFEGHIH CJKJADA ABABKCC CLCLKMNM GONODCPC ABABNNANStormy clouds delirious straying | A |
Showers of whirling snowflakes white | B |
And the pallid moonbeams waning | A |
Sad the heavens sad the night | B |
Further speeds the sledge and further | C |
Loud the sleighbell's melody | D |
Grewsome frightful 'tis becoming | A |
'Mid these snow fields now to be | D |
- | |
Hasten 'That is useless Master | C |
Heavier for my team their load | E |
And my eyes with snow o'er plastered | F |
Can no longer see the road | E |
Lost all trace of our direction | G |
Sir what now The goblins draw | H |
Us already round in circles | I |
Pull the sledge with evil claw | H |
- | |
See One hops with frantic gesture | C |
In my face to grin and hiss | J |
See It goads the frenzied horses | K |
Onward to the black abyss | J |
In the darkness like a paling | A |
One stands forth and now I see | D |
Him like walking fire sparkling | A |
Then the blackness woe is me ' | - |
- | |
Stormy clouds delirious straying | A |
Showers of snowflakes whirling white | B |
And the pallid moonbeams waning | A |
Sad the heavens sad the night | B |
Sudden halt the weary horses | K |
Silent too the sleighbells whirr | C |
Look What crouches on the ground there | C |
'Wolf or shrub I know not Sir ' | - |
- | |
How the wind's brood rage and whimper | C |
Scenting blow the triple team | L |
See One hops here Forward Driver | C |
How his eyes with evil gleam | L |
Scarce controllable the horses | K |
How the harness bells resound | M |
Look With what a sneering grimace | N |
Now the spirit band surround | M |
- | |
In an endless long procession | G |
Formless countless of their kind | O |
Circle us in flying coveys | N |
Like the leaves in Autumn wind | O |
Now in ghastly silence deathly | D |
Now with shrilling elfin cry | C |
Is it some mad dance of bridal | P |
Or a death march passing by | C |
- | |
Stormy clouds delirious straying | A |
Showers of snowflakes whirling white | B |
And the pallid moonbeams waning | A |
Sad the heavens sad the night | B |
Cloudward course the evil spirits | N |
In unceasing phantom bands | N |
And their moaning and bewailing | A |
Grip my heart with icy hands | N |
Alexander Sergeyevich Pushkin
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