Damon The Mower Poem Rhyme Scheme

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Heark how the Mower Damon Sung	A
With love of Juliana stung	A
While ev'ry thing did seem to paint	B
The Scene more fit for his complaint	B
Like her fair Eyes the day was fair	C
But scorching like his am'rous Care	C
Sharp like his Sythe his Sorrow was	D
And wither'd like his Hopes the Grass	E
	-
Oh what unusual Heats are here	F
Which thus our Sun burn'd Meadows sear	G
The Grass hopper its pipe gives ore	H
And hamstring'd Frogs can dance no more	H
But in the brook the green Frog wades	I
And Grass hoppers seek out the shades	I
Only the Snake that kept within	J
Now glitters in its second skin	J
	-
This heat the Sun could never raise	K
Nor Dog star so inflame's the dayes	K
It from an higher Beauty grow'th	L
Which burns the Fields and Mower both	M
Which made the Dog and makes the Sun	N
Hotter then his own Phaeton	N
Not July causeth these Extremes	K
But Juliana's scorching beams	K
	-
Tell me where I may pass the Fires	K
Of the hot day or hot desires	K
To what cool Cave shall I descend	O
Or to what gelid Fountain bend	O
Alas I look for Ease in vain	N
When Remedies themselves complain	N
No moisture but my Tears do rest	P
Nor Cold but in her Icy Breast	P
	-
How long wilt Thou fair Shepheardess	K
Esteem me and my Presents less	K
To Thee the harmless Snake I bring	Q
Disarmed of its teeth and sting	Q
To Thee Chameleons changing hue	R
And Oak leaves tipt with hony due	R
Yet Thou ungrateful hast not sought	S
Nor what they are nor who them brought	S
	-
I am the Mower Damon known	N
Through all the Meadows I have mown	N
On me the Morn her dew distills	K
Before her darling Daffadils	K
And if at Noon my toil me heat	T
The Sun himself licks off my Sweat	U
While going home the Ev'ning sweet	T
In cowslip water bathes my feet	T
	-
What though the piping Shepherd stock	V
The plains with an unnum'red Flock	V
This Sithe of mine discovers wide	W
More ground then all his Sheep do hide	W
With this the golden fleece I shear	G
Of all these Closes ev'ry Year	G
And though in Wooll more poor then they	X
Yet am I richer far in Hay	X
	-
Nor am I so deform'd to sight	Y
If in my Sithe I looked right	Y
In which I see my Picture done	N
As in a crescent Moon the Sun	N
The deathless Fairyes take me oft	Z
To lead them in their Danses soft	A2
And when I tune my self to sing	Q
About me they contract their Ring	Q
	-
How happy might I still have mow'd	B2
Had not Love here his Thistles sow'd	C2
But now I all the day complain	N
Joyning my Labour to my Pain	N
And with my Sythe cut down the Grass	K
Yet still my Grief is where it was	K
But when the Iron blunter grows	K
Sighing I whet my Sythe and Woes	K
	-
While thus he threw his Elbow round	D2
Depopulating all the Ground	D2
And with his whistling Sythe does cut	E2
Each stroke between the Earth and Root	F2
The edged Stele by careless chance	K
Did into his own Ankle glance	K
And there among the Grass fell down	N
By his own Sythe the Mower mown	N
	-
Alas said He these hurts are slight	Y
To those that dye by Loves despight	Y
With Shepherds purse and Clowns all heal	G2
The Blood I stanch and Wound I seal	G2
Only for him no Cure is found	Y
Whom Julianas Eyes do wound	Y
'Tis death alone that this must do	Y
For Death thou art a Mower too	Y

Andrew Marvell

Damon The Mower Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis

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