Felo De Se Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis
Rhyme Scheme: A BBCCDDEEFFBBCCGGHHII JJKKLLAA| i With Apologies to Mr Swinburne i | A |
| - | |
| - | |
| For repose I have sighed and have struggled have sigh'd and have struggled in vain | B |
| I am held in the Circle of Being and caught in the Circle of Pain | B |
| I was wan and weary with life my sick soul yearned for death | C |
| I was weary of women and war and the sea and the wind's wild breath | C |
| I cull'd sweet poppies and crush'd them the blood ran rich and red | D |
| And I cast it in crystal chalice and drank of it till I was dead | D |
| And the mould of the man was mute pulseless in ev'ry part | E |
| The long limbs lay on the sand with an eagle eating the heart | E |
| Repose for the rotting head and peace for the putrid breast | F |
| But for that which is 'I' indeed the gods have decreed no rest | F |
| No rest but an endless aching a sorrow which grows amain | B |
| I am caught in the Circle of Being and held in the Circle of Pain | B |
| Bitter indeed is Life and bitter of Life the breath | C |
| But give me Life and its ways and its men if this be Death | C |
| Wearied I once of the Sun and the voices which clamour'd around | G |
| Give them me back in the sightless depths there is neither light nor sound | G |
| Sick is my soul and sad and feeble and faint as it felt | H |
| When far dim day in the fair flesh fane of the body it dwelt | H |
| But then I could run to the shore weeping and weary and weak | I |
| See the waves' blue sheen and feel the breath of the breeze on my cheek | I |
| Could wail with the wailing wind strike sharply the hands in despair | J |
| Could shriek with the shrieking blast grow frenzied and tear the hair | J |
| Could fight fierce fights with the foe or clutch at a human hand | K |
| And weary could lie at length on the soft sweet saffron sand | K |
| I have neither a voice nor hands nor any friend nor a foe | L |
| I am I just a Pulse of Pain I am I that is all I know | L |
| For Life and the sickness of Life and Death and desire to die | A |
| They have passed away like the smoke here is nothing but Pain and I | A |
Amy Levy
(1)
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