The Lotos-eaters Poem Rhyme Scheme

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Alfred Lord Tennyson

The Lotos-eaters Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis

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Courage he said and pointed toward the land	A
This mounting wave will roll us shoreward soon	B
In the afternoon they came unto a land	A
In which it seemed always afternoon	B
All round the coast the languid air did swoon	B
Breathing like one that hath a weary dream	C
Full faced above the valley stood the moon	B
And like a downward smoke the slender stream	C
Along the cliff to fall and pause and fall did seem	C
	-
A land of streams some like a downward smoke	D
Slow dropping veils of thinnest lawn did go	E
And some thro' wavering lights and shadows broke	D
Rolling a slumbrous sheet of foam below	E
They saw the gleaming river seaward flow	E
From the inner land far off three mountain tops	F
Three silent pinnacles of aged snow	E
Stood sunset flush'd and dew'd with showery drops	F
Up clomb the shadowy pine above the woven copse	F
	-
The charmed sunset linger'd low adown	E
In the red West thro' mountain clefts the dale	G
Was seen far inland and the yellow down	E
Border'd with palm and many a winding vale	G
And meadow set with slender galingale	G
A land where all things always seem'd the same	H
And round about the keel with faces pale	G
Dark faces pale against that rosy flame	H
The mild eyed melancholy Lotos eaters came	H
	-
Branches they bore of that enchanted stem	I
Laden with flower and fruit whereof they gave	J
To each but whoso did receive of them	I
And taste to him the gushing of the wave	J
Far far away did seem to mourn and rave	J
On alien shores and if his fellow spake	K
His voice was thin as voices from the grave	J
And deep asleep he seem'd yet all awake	K
And music in his ears his beating heart did make	K
	-
They sat them down upon the yellow sand	A
Between the sun and moon upon the shore	L
And sweet it was to dream of Fatherland	A
Of child and wife and slave but evermore	L
Most weary seem'd the sea weary the oar	L
Weary the wandering fields of barren foam	M
Then some one said We will return no more	L
And all at once they sang Our island home	M
Is far beyond the wave we will no longer roam	M
	-
CHORIC SONG	N
	-
I	-
	-
There is sweet music here that softer falls	F
Than petals from blown roses on the grass	F
Or night dews on still waters between walls	F
Of shadowy granite in a gleaming pass	F
Music that gentlier on the spirit lies	F
Than tir'd eyelids upon tir'd eyes	F
Music that brings sweet sleep down from the blissful skies	F
Here are cool mosses deep	O
And thro' the moss the ivies creep	O
And in the stream the long leaved flowers weep	O
And from the craggy ledge the poppy hangs in sleep	O
	-
II	-
	-
Why are we weigh'd upon with heaviness	F
And utterly consumed with sharp distress	F
While all things else have rest from weariness	F
All things have rest why should we toil alone	E
We only toil who are the first of things	F
And make perpetual moan	E
Still from one sorrow to another thrown	E
Nor ever fold our wings	F
And cease from wanderings	F
Nor steep our brows in slumber's holy balm	P
Nor harken what the inner spirit sings	F
There is no joy but calm	P
Why should we only toil the roof and crown of things	F
	-
III	-
	-
Lo in the middle of the wood	Q
The folded leaf is woo'd from out the bud	R
With winds upon the branch and there	S
Grows green and broad and takes no care	S
Sun steep'd at noon and in the moon	E
Nightly dew fed and turning yellow	G
Falls and floats adown the air	S
Lo sweeten'd with the summer light	T
The full juiced apple waxing over mellow	G
Drops in a silent autumn night	T
All its allotted length of days	F
The flower ripens in its place	F
Ripens and fades and falls and hath no toil	G
Fast rooted in the fruitful soil	G
	-
IV	J
	-
Hateful is the dark blue sky	-
Vaulted o'er the dark blue sea	F
Death is the end of life ah why	-
Should life all labour be	F
Let us alone Time driveth onward fast	U
And in a little while our lips are dumb	V
Let us alone What is it that will last	U
All things are taken from us and become	V
Portions and parcels of the dreadful past	U
Let us alone What pleasure can we have	J
To war with evil Is there any peace	F
In ever climbing up the climbing wave	J
All things have rest and ripen toward the grave	J
In silence ripen fall and cease	F
Give us long rest or death dark death or dreamful ease	F
	-
V	F
	-
How sweet it were hearing the downward stream	C
With half shut eyes ever to seem	C
Falling asleep in a half dream	C
To dream and dream like yonder amber light	T
Which will not leave the myrrh bush on the height	T
To hear each other's whisper'd speech	W
Eating the Lotos day by day	X
To watch the crisping ripples on the beach	W
And tender curving lines of creamy spray	X
To lend our hearts and spirits wholly	F
To the influence of mild minded melancholy	F
To muse and brood and live again in memory	F
With those old faces of our infancy	F
Heap'd over with a mound of grass	F
Two handfuls of white dust shut in an urn of brass	F
	-
VI	-
	-
Dear is the memory of our wedded lives	F
And dear the last embraces of our wives	F
And their warm tears but all hath suffer'd change	Y
For surely now our household hearths are cold	Z
Our sons inherit us our looks are strange	Y
And we should come like ghosts to trouble joy	A2
Or else the island princes over bold	Z
Have eat our substance and the minstrel sings	F
Before them of the ten years' war in Troy	A2
And our great deeds as half forgotten things	F
Is there confusion in the little isle	G
Let what is broken so remain	E
The Gods are hard to reconcile	G
'Tis hard to settle order once again	E
There is confusion worse than death	B2
Trouble on trouble pain on pain	E
Long labour unto aged breath	B2
Sore task to hearts worn out by many wars	F
And eyes grown dim with gazing on the pilot stars	F
	-
VII	-
	-
But propt on beds of amaranth and moly	F
How sweet while warm airs lull us blowing lowly	F
With half dropt eyelid still	G
Beneath a heaven dark and holy	F
To watch the long bright river drawing slowly	F
His waters from the purple hill	G
To hear the dewy echoes calling	C2
From cave to cave thro' the thick twined vine	E
To watch the emerald colour'd water falling	C2
Thro' many a wov'n acanthus wreath divine	E
Only to hear and see the far off sparkling brine	E
Only to hear were sweet stretch'd out beneath the pine	E
	-
VIII	-
	-
The Lotos blooms below the barren peak	D2
The Lotos blows by every winding creek	D2
All day the wind breathes low with mellower tone	E
Thro' every hollow cave and alley lone	E
Round and round the spicy downs the yellow Lotos dust is blown	E
We have had enough of action and of motion we	F
Roll'd to starboard roll'd to larboard when the surge was seething free	F
Where the wallowing monster spouted his foam fountains in the sea	F
Let us swear an oath and keep it with an equal mind	E2
In the hollow Lotos land to live and lie reclined	E2
On the hills like Gods together careless of mankind	E2
For they lie beside their nectar and the bolts are hurl'd	F2
Far below them in the valleys and the clouds are lightly curl'd	F2
Round their golden houses girdled with the gleaming world	F2
Where they smile in secret looking over wasted lands	F
Blight and famine plague and earthquake roaring deeps and fiery sands	F
Clanging fights and flaming towns and sinking ships and praying hands	F
But they smile they find a music centred in a doleful song	N
Steaming up a lamentation and an ancient tale of wrong	N
Like a tale of little meaning tho' the words are strong	N
Chanted from an ill used race of men that cleave the soil	G
Sow the seed and reap the harvest with enduring toil	G
Storing yearly little dues of wheat and wine and oil	G
Till they perish and they suffer some 'tis whisper'd down in hell	G
Suffer endless anguish others in Elysian valleys dwell	G
Resting weary limbs at last on beds of asphodel	G
Surely surely slumber is more sweet than toil the shore	L
Than labour in the deep mid ocean wind and wave and oar	L
O rest ye brother mariners we will not wander more	L