To A New York Shop-girl Dressed For Sunday Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis

Rhyme Scheme: AA BB CC DD EE FF GG HH II JJ BB KK LLL MMM NNOO PQ RRAA SS TT UU VW SS SS XX YY ZZ SS A2A2 B2B2 SS

To day I saw the shop girl goA
Down gay Broadway to meet her beauA
-
Conspicuous splendid conscious sweetB
She spread abroad and took the streetB
-
And all that niceness would forbidC
Superb she smiled upon and didC
-
Let other girls whose happier daysD
Preserve the perfume of their waysD
-
Go modestly The passing hourE
Adds splendor to their opening flowerE
-
But from this child too swift a doomF
Must steal her prettiness and bloomF
-
Toil and weariness hide the graceG
That pleads a moment from her faceG
-
So blame her not if for a dayH
She flaunts her glories while she mayH
-
She half perceives half understandsI
Snatching her gifts with both her handsI
-
The little strut beneath the skirtJ
That lags neglected in the dirtJ
-
The indolent swagger down the streetB
Who can condemn such happy feetB
-
Innocent vulgar that's the truthK
Yet with the darling wiles of youthK
-
The bright self conscious eyes that stareL
With such hauteur beneath such hairL
Perhaps the men will find me fairL
-
Charming and charmed flippant arrayedM
Fluttered and foolish proud displayedM
Infinite pathos of paradeM
-
The bangles and the narrowed waistN
The tinsled boa forgive the tasteN
Oh the starved nights she gave for thatO
And bartered bread to buy her hatO
-
She flows before the reproachful sageP
And begs her woman's heritageQ
-
Dear child with the defiant eyesR
Insolent with the half surmiseR
We do not quite admire I knowA
How foresight frowns on this vain showA
-
And judgment wearily sad may seeS
No grace in such frivolityS
-
Yet which of us was ever boldT
To worship Beauty hungry and coldT
-
Scorn famine down proudly expressedU
Apostle to what things are bestU
-
Let him who starves to buy the foodV
For his soul's comfort find her goodW
-
Nor chide the frills and furbelowsS
That are the prettiest things she knowsS
-
Poet and prophet in God's eyesS
Make no more perfect sacrificeS
-
Who knows before what inner shrineX
She eats with them the bread and wineX
-
Poor waif One of the sacred fewY
That madly sought the best they knewY
-
Dear let me lean my cheek to nightZ
Close close to yours Ah that is rightZ
-
How warm and near At last I seeS
One beauty shines for thee and meS
-
So let us love and understandA2
Whose hearts are hidden in God's handA2
-
And we will cherish your brief SpringB2
And all its fragile floweringB2
-
God loves all prettiness and on thisS
Surely his angels lay their kissS

Anna Hempstead Branch



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