An Athenian Reverie Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis
Rhyme Scheme: ABCDEFGHIJKLMNODPQRS TUVWXYDZA2ZB2SC2DD2E 2A2F2A2G2H2H2H2H2I2A 2H2J2H2H2A2IA2A2K2H2 A2H2AIL2M2 H2A2H2H2H2SA2N2O2CH2 H2A2H2A2H2IH2A2H2H2P 2Q2H2H2H2IA2A2K2H2A2 H2H2R2H2S2T2H2H2U2H2 H2A2V2H2H2K2IB2W2H2H 2H2X2I SH2H2A2H2U2H2A2A2IH2 H2Y2Z2H2SQA2T2K2K2B2 AA2T2Z2H2H2A3H2Z2B3A 2A2C3H2D3Z2Z2H2H2H2H 2E3A2Z2SF3W2G3 H2A2H2IT2Z2H3I3J3A2H 2SZ2A2A2SA2Z2SK3K2W2 Z2M2H2IIA2G3H2IH2H2Z 2A2Z2A2H2H2A2M2A2Z2A 2 SL3M3N3A2A2A2Z2O3A2Z 2H2N3H2H2H2A2IO3A2A2 A2K2H2H2L3K2Z2A2H2IH 2A2A2M2SA2N3B2IG3P3I H2A2A2A2P2Z2A2Q3R3A2 N3H2A2A2J3A2S3A2SZ2A 2A2H2H2T3A2H2SA2A2F2 A2A2SH2A2H2M2H2Z2OA2 Z2S3H2M2Z2H2Z2F2A2A2 M2F2G3S A2A2F2F2A2U3KF2N3H2H 2H2Z2H2H2H2Z2H2A2F2H 2F2F2V3A2Z2F2W3H2A2Z 2SH2A2A2IH2X3A2A2H2S A2C3A2A2Y3H2IA2H2A2S T3H2A2F2H2F2H2A2Z2F2 SA2H2A2SH2H2H2IH2KA2 SH2H2A2SSH2A2H2H2H2H 2SH2Z3H2S3 H2H2N3H2G3SH2IH2H2A2 H2Z2A2F2M2A2G3A4A2L2 A2D3A2SP3IA2H2| How the returning days one after one | A |
| Came ever in their rhythmic round unchanged | B |
| Yet from each looped robe for every man | C |
| Some new thing falls Happy is he | D |
| Who fronts them without fear and like the gods | E |
| Looks out unanxiously on each day's gift | F |
| With calmly curious eye How many things | G |
| Even in a little space both good and ill | H |
| Have fallen on me and yet in all of them | I |
| The keen experience or the smooth remembrance | J |
| Hath found some sweet It scarcely seems a month | K |
| Since we saw Crete so swiftly sped the days | L |
| Borne onward with how many changing scenes | M |
| Filled with how many crowding memories | N |
| Not soon shall I forget them the stout ship | O |
| All the tense labour with the windy sea | D |
| The cloud wrapped heights of Crete beheld far off | P |
| And white Cytaeon with its stormy pier | Q |
| The fruitful valleys the wild mountain road | R |
| And those long days of ever vigilant toil | S |
| Scarcely with sleepless craft and unmoved front | T |
| Escaping robbers that quiet restful eve | U |
| At rich Gortyna where we lay and watched | V |
| The dripping foliage and the darkening fields | W |
| And over all huge browed above the night | X |
| Ida's great summit with its fiery crown | Y |
| And then once more the stormy treacherous sea | D |
| The noisy ship the seamen's vehement cries | Z |
| That battled with the whistling wind the feet | A2 |
| Reeling upon the swaying deck and eyes | Z |
| Strained anxiously toward land ah with what joy | B2 |
| At last the busy pier at Nauplia | S |
| Rest and firm shelter for our racking brains | C2 |
| Most sweet of all most dear to memory | D |
| That journey with Euktemon through the hills | D2 |
| By fair Cleonae and the lofty pass | E2 |
| Then Corinth with its riotous jollity | A2 |
| Remembered like a reeling dream and here | F2 |
| Good Theron's wedding and this festal day | A2 |
| And I chief helper in its various rites | G2 |
| Not least commissioned through these wakeful hours | H2 |
| To dream before the quiet thalamos | H2 |
| Unsleeping like some full grown bearded Eros | H2 |
| The guardian of love's sweetest mysteries | H2 |
| To morrow I shall hear again the din | I2 |
| Of the loosed cables and the rowers' chaunt | A2 |
| The rattled cordage and the plunging oars | H2 |
| Once more the bending sail shall bear us on | J2 |
| Across the level of the laughing sea | H2 |
| Ere mid day we shall see far off behind us | H2 |
| Faint as the summit of a sultry cloud | A2 |
| The white Acropolis Past Sunium | I |
| With rushing keel the long Euboean strand | A2 |
| Hymettus and the pine dark hills shall fade | A2 |
| Into the dusk at Andros we shall water | K2 |
| And ere another starlight hush the shores | H2 |
| From seaward valleys catch upon the wind | A2 |
| The fragrance of old Chian vintages | H2 |
| At Chios many things shall fall but none | A |
| Can trace the future rather let me dream | I |
| Of what is now and what hath been for both | L2 |
| Are fraught with life | M2 |
| - | |
| Here the unbroken silence | H2 |
| Awakens thought and makes remembrance sweet | A2 |
| How solidly the brilliant moonlight shines | H2 |
| Into the courts beneath the colonnades | H2 |
| How dense the shadows I can scarcely see | H2 |
| Yon painted Dian on the darkened wall | S |
| Yet how the gloom hath made her real What sound | A2 |
| Piercing the leafy covert of her couch | N2 |
| Hath startled her Perchance some prowling wolf | O2 |
| Or luckless footsteps of the stealthy Pan | C |
| Creeping at night among noiseless steeps | H2 |
| And hollows of the Erymanthian woods | H2 |
| Roused her from sleep With listening head | A2 |
| Snatched bow and quiver lightly slung she stands | H2 |
| And peers across that dim and motionless glade | A2 |
| Beckoning about her heels the wakeful dogs | H2 |
| Yet Dian thus alert is but a dream | I |
| Making more real this brooding quietness | H2 |
| How strong and wonderful is night Mankind | A2 |
| Has yielded all to one sweet helplessness | H2 |
| Thought labour strife and all activities | H2 |
| Have ebbed like fever The smooth tide of sleep | P2 |
| Rolling across the fields of Attica | Q2 |
| Hath covered all the labouring villages | H2 |
| Even great Athens with her busy hands | H2 |
| And busier tongues lies quiet beneath its waves | H2 |
| Only a steady murmur seems to come | I |
| Up from her silentness as if the land | A2 |
| Were breathing heavily in dreams Abroad | A2 |
| No creature stirs not even the reveller | K2 |
| Staggering unlanterned from the cool Piraeus | H2 |
| With drunken shout The remnants of the feast | A2 |
| The crumpled cushions and the broken wreathes | H2 |
| Lie scattered in yon shadowy court whose stones | H2 |
| Through the warm hours drink up the staining wine | R2 |
| The bridal oxen in their well filled stalls | H2 |
| Sleep mindless of the happy weight they drew | S2 |
| The torch is charred the garlands at the door | T2 |
| So gay at morning with their bright festoons | H2 |
| Hang limp and withered and the joyous flutes | H2 |
| Are empty of all sound Only my brain | U2 |
| Holds now in its remote unsleeping depths | H2 |
| The echo of the tender hymenaeos | H2 |
| And memory of the modest lips that sang it | A2 |
| Within the silent thalamos the queen | V2 |
| The sea sprung radiant Cytherean reigns | H2 |
| And with her smiling lips and fathomless eyes | H2 |
| Regards the lovers knowing that this hour | K2 |
| Is theirs once only Earth and thought and time | I |
| Lie far beyond them a great gulf of joy | B2 |
| Absorbing fear regret and every grief | W2 |
| A warm eternity or now perchance | H2 |
| Night and the very weight of happiness | H2 |
| Unsought have turned upon their tremulous eyes | H2 |
| The mindless stream of sleep nor do they care | X2 |
| If dawn should never come | I |
| - | |
| How joyously | S |
| These hours have gone with all their pictured scenes | H2 |
| A string of golden beads for memory | H2 |
| To finger over in her moods or stay | A2 |
| The hunger of some wakeful hour like this | H2 |
| The flowers the myrtles the gay bridal train | U2 |
| The flutes and pensive voices the white robes | H2 |
| The shower of sweet meats and the jovial feast | A2 |
| The bride cakes and the teeming merriment | A2 |
| Most beautiful of all most sweet to name | I |
| The good Lysippe with her down cast eyes | H2 |
| Touched with soft fear half scared at all the noise | H2 |
| Whose tears were ready as her laughter fresh | Y2 |
| And modest as some pink anemone | Z2 |
| How young she looked and how her smiling lips | H2 |
| Betrayed her happiness Ah who can tell | S |
| How often when no watchful eye was near | Q |
| Her eager fingers trembling and ashamed | A2 |
| Essayed the apple pips or strewed the floor | T2 |
| With broken poppy petals Next to her | K2 |
| Theron himself the gladest goodliest figure | K2 |
| His honest face ruddy with health and joy | B2 |
| And smiling like the AEgean when the sun | A |
| Hangs high in heaven and the freshening wind | A2 |
| Comes in from Melos rippling all its floor | T2 |
| And there was Manto too the good old crone | Z2 |
| So dear to children with her store of tales | H2 |
| Warmed with new life how to her old grey face | H2 |
| And withered limbs the very dance of youth | A3 |
| Seemed to return and in her aged eyes | H2 |
| The waning fire rekindled little Maeon | Z2 |
| That mischievous satyr with his tipsy wreath | B3 |
| Who kept us laughing at his pranks and made | A2 |
| Old Phyrrho angry Him too sleep hath bound | A2 |
| Upon his rough hewn couch with subtle thong | C3 |
| Crowding his brain with odd fantastic shapes | H2 |
| Even in sleep his little limbs I think | D3 |
| Twitch restlessly and still his tongue gibes on | Z2 |
| With inarticulate murmur Ah quaint Maeon | Z2 |
| And Manto poor old Manto what dim dreams | H2 |
| Of darkly moving chaos and slow shapes | H2 |
| Of things that creep encumbered with huge burdens | H2 |
| Gloom and infest her through these dragging hours | H2 |
| Haunting the wavering soul so near the grave | E3 |
| But all things journey to the same quiet end | A2 |
| At last life joy and every form of motion | Z2 |
| Nothing stands still Not least inevitable | S |
| The sad recession of this passionate love | F3 |
| Whose panting fires so soon and with such grief | W2 |
| Burn down to ash | G3 |
| - | |
| Ai Ai 'tis a strange madness | H2 |
| To give up thought ambition liberty | A2 |
| And all the rooted custom of our days | H2 |
| Even life itself for one all pampering dream | I |
| That withers like those garlands at the door | T2 |
| And yet I have seen many excellent men | Z2 |
| Besotted thus and some that bore till death | H3 |
| In the crook'd vision and embittered tongue | I3 |
| The effect of this strange poison like a scar | J3 |
| An ineradicable hurt but Fate | A2 |
| Who deals more wondrously in this disease | H2 |
| Even than in others yet doth sometimes will | S |
| To make the same thing unto different men | Z2 |
| Evil or good Was not Demetrios happy | A2 |
| Who wore his fetters with such grace and spent | A2 |
| On Chione the Naxian that shrewd girl | S |
| His fortune and his youth yet while she lived | A2 |
| Enjoyed the rich reward He seemed like one | Z2 |
| That trod on wind and I remember well | S |
| How when she died in that remorseless plague | K3 |
| And I alone stood with him at the pyre | K2 |
| He shook me with his helpless passionate grief | W2 |
| And honest Agathon the married man | Z2 |
| Whose boyish fondness for his pretty wife | M2 |
| We smiled at and yet envied at the close | H2 |
| Of each day's labour how he posted home | I |
| And thence no bait however plumed could draw him | I |
| We laughed but envied him How sweet she looked | A2 |
| That morning at the Dyonisia | G3 |
| With her rare eyes and modest girlish grace | H2 |
| Leading her two small children by the palm | I |
| I too might marry if the faithful gods | H2 |
| Would promise me such joy as Agathon's | H2 |
| Perhaps some day but no I am not one | Z2 |
| To clip my wings and wind about my feet | A2 |
| A net whose self made meshes are as stern | Z2 |
| As they are soft To me is ever present | A2 |
| The outer world with its untravelled paths | H2 |
| The wanderer's dream the itch to see new things | H2 |
| A single tie could never bind me fast | A2 |
| For life this joyous busy ever changing life | M2 |
| Is only dear to me with liberty | A2 |
| With space of earth for feet to travel in | Z2 |
| And space of mind for thought | A2 |
| - | |
| Not so for all | S |
| To most men life is but a common thing | L3 |
| The hours a sort of coin to barter with | M3 |
| Whose worth is reckoned by the sum they buy | N3 |
| In gold or power or pleasure each short day | A2 |
| That brings not these deemed fruitless as dry sand | A2 |
| Their lives are but a blind activity | A2 |
| And death to them is but the end of motion | Z2 |
| Grey children who have madly eat and drunk | O3 |
| Won the high seats or filled their chests with gold | A2 |
| And yet for all their years have never seen | Z2 |
| The picture of their lives or how life looks | H2 |
| To him who hath the deep uneager eye | N3 |
| How sweet and large and beautiful it was | H2 |
| How strange the part they played Like him who sits | H2 |
| Beneath some mighty tree with half closed eyes | H2 |
| At ease rejoicing in its murmurous shade | A2 |
| Yet never once awakes from his dull dream | I |
| To mark with curious joy the kingly trunk | O3 |
| The sweeping boughs and tower of leaves that gave it | A2 |
| Even so the most of men they take the gift | A2 |
| And care not for the giver Strange indeed | A2 |
| Are they and pitiable beyond measure | K2 |
| Who thus unmindful of their wretchedness | H2 |
| Crowd at life's bountiful gates like fattening beggars | H2 |
| Greedy and blind For see how rich a thing | L3 |
| Life is to him who sees to whom each hour | K2 |
| Brings some fresh wonder to be brooded on | Z2 |
| Adds some new group or studied history | A2 |
| To that wrought sculpture that our watchful dreams | H2 |
| Cast up upon the broad expanse of time | I |
| As in a never finished frieze not less | H2 |
| The little things that most men pass unmarked | A2 |
| Than those that shake mankind Happy is he | A2 |
| Who as a watcher stands apart from life | M2 |
| From all life and his own and thus from all | S |
| Each thought each deed and each hour's brief event | A2 |
| Draws the full beauty sucks its meaning dry | N3 |
| For him this life shall be a tranquil joy | B2 |
| He shall be quiet and free To him shall come | I |
| No gnawing hunger for the coarser touch | G3 |
| No mad ambition with its fateful grasp | P3 |
| Sorrow itself shall sway him like a dream | I |
| - | |
| How full life is how many memories | H2 |
| Flash and shine out when thought is sharply stirred | A2 |
| How the mind works when once the wheels are loosed | A2 |
| How nimbly with what swift activity | A2 |
| I think 'tis strange that men should ever sleep | P2 |
| There are so many things to think upon | Z2 |
| So many deeds so many thoughts to weigh | A2 |
| To pierce and plumb them to the silent depth | Q3 |
| Yet in that thought I do rebuke myself | R3 |
| Too little given to probe the inner heart | A2 |
| But rather wont with the luxurious eye | N3 |
| To catch from life its outer loveliness | H2 |
| Such things as do but store the joyous memory | A2 |
| With food for solace rather than for thought | A2 |
| Like light lined figures on a painted jar | J3 |
| I wonder where Euktemon is to night | A2 |
| Euktemon with his rough and fitful talk | S3 |
| His moody gesture and defiant stride | A2 |
| How strange how bleak and unapproachable | S |
| And yet I liked him from the first How soon | Z2 |
| We know our friends through all disguise of mood | A2 |
| Discerning by a subtle touch of spirit | A2 |
| The honest heart within Euktemon's glance | H2 |
| Betrayed him with its gusty friendliness | H2 |
| Flashing at moments from the clouded brow | T3 |
| Like brave warm sunshine and his laughter too | A2 |
| So rare so sudden so contagious | H2 |
| How at some merry scene some well told tale | S |
| Or swift invention of the winged wit | A2 |
| It broke like thunderous water rolling out | A2 |
| In shaken peals on the delighted ear | F2 |
| Yet no man would have dreamed who saw us two | A2 |
| That first grey morning on the pier at Crete | A2 |
| That friendship could have forged thus easily | S |
| A bond so subtle and so sure between us | H2 |
| He gloomy and austere I full of thought | A2 |
| As he yet in adverse mood at ease | H2 |
| Lifting with lighter hands the lids of life | M2 |
| Untortured by its riddles he whose smiles | H2 |
| Were rare and sudden as the autumn sun | Z2 |
| I to whom smiles are ever near the lip | O |
| And yet I think he loved me too my mood | A2 |
| Was not unpleasant to him though I know | Z2 |
| At times I teased him with flickering talk | S3 |
| How self immured he was for all our converse | H2 |
| I gathered little little of his life | M2 |
| A bitter trial to me who love to learn | Z2 |
| The changes of men's outer circumstance | H2 |
| The strokes that fate has shaped them with and so | Z2 |
| Fitting to these their present speech and favour | F2 |
| Discern the thought within From him I gleaned | A2 |
| Nothing At least the word however guarded | A2 |
| That sought to try the fastenings of his life | M2 |
| With prying hands how mute and dark he grew | F2 |
| And like the cautious tortoise at a touch | G3 |
| Drew in beneath his shell | S |
| - | |
| But ah how sweet | A2 |
| The memory of that long untroubled day | A2 |
| To me so joyous and so free from care | F2 |
| Spent as I love on foot our first together | F2 |
| When fate and the reluctant sea at last | A2 |
| Had given us safely to dry land the tramp | U3 |
| From grey Mycenae by the pass to Corinth | K |
| The smooth white road the soft caressing air | F2 |
| Full of the scent of blossoms the clear sky | N3 |
| Strewn lightly with the little tardy clouds | H2 |
| Old Helios' scattered flock the low branched oaks | H2 |
| And fountained resting places the cool nooks | H2 |
| Where eyes less darkened with life's use than mine | Z2 |
| Perchance had caught the Naiads in their dreams | H2 |
| Or won white glimpses of their flying heels | H2 |
| How light our feet were with what rhythmic strides | H2 |
| We left the long blue gulf behind us sown | Z2 |
| Far out with snowy sails and how our hearts | H2 |
| Rose with the growth of morning till we reached | A2 |
| That moss hung fountain on the hillside near | F2 |
| Cleonae where the dark anemones | H2 |
| Cover the ground and make it red like fire | F2 |
| Could ever grief I wonder or fixed care | F2 |
| Or even the lingering twilight of old age | V3 |
| Divest for me such memories of their sweet | A2 |
| Even Euktemon's obdurate mood broke down | Z2 |
| The odorous stillness the serene bright air | F2 |
| The leafy shadows the warm blossoming earth | W3 |
| Drew near with their voluptuous eloquence | H2 |
| And melted him Ah what a talk we had | A2 |
| How eagerly our nimble tongues ran on | Z2 |
| With linked wit in joyous sympathy | S |
| Such hours I think are better than long years | H2 |
| Of brooding loneliness mind touching mind | A2 |
| To leaping life and thought sustaining thought | A2 |
| Till even the darkest chambers of grey time | I |
| His ancient seats and bolted mysteries | H2 |
| Open their hoary doors and at a look | X3 |
| Lay all their treasures bare How when our thought | A2 |
| Wheeling on ever bolder wings at last | A2 |
| Grew as it seemed too large for utterance | H2 |
| We both fell silent striving to recall | S |
| And grasp such things as in our daring mood | A2 |
| We had but glimpsed and leaped at yet how long | C3 |
| We studied thus with absent eyes I know not | A2 |
| Our thought died slowly out the busy road | A2 |
| The voices of the passers by the change | Y3 |
| Of garb and feature and the various tongues | H2 |
| Absorbed us Ah how clearly I recall them | I |
| For in these silent wakeful hours the mind | A2 |
| Is strangely swift With that sharp lines | H2 |
| The shapes of things that even years have buried | A2 |
| Shine out upon the rapid memory | S |
| Moving and warm like life I can see now | T3 |
| The form of that tall peddler whose strange wares | H2 |
| Outlandish dialect and impudent gait | A2 |
| Awoke Euktemon's laughter In mine ear | F2 |
| Is echoing still the cracking string of gibes | H2 |
| They flung at one another I remember too | F2 |
| The grey haired merchant with his bold black eyes | H2 |
| And brace of slaves the old ship captain tanned | A2 |
| With sweeping sea winds and the pitiless sun | Z2 |
| But best of all that dainty amorous pair | F2 |
| Whose youthful spirit neither heat nor toil | S |
| Could conquer What a charming group they made | A2 |
| The creaking litter and the long brown poles | H2 |
| The sinewy bearers with their cat like stride | A2 |
| Dripping with sweat that merry dark eyed girl | S |
| Whose sudden beauty shook us from our dreams | H2 |
| And chained our eyes How beautiful she was | H2 |
| Half hid among the gay Miletian cushions | H2 |
| The lovely laughing face the gracious form | I |
| The fragrant lightly knotted hair and eyes | H2 |
| Full of the dancing fire of wanton Corinth | K |
| That happy stripling whose delighted feet | A2 |
| Swung at her side whose tongue ran on so gaily | S |
| Is it for him alone she wreathes those smiles | H2 |
| And tunes so musically that flexile voice | H2 |
| Soft as the Lydian flute Surely his gait | A2 |
| Proclaimed the lover and his well filled girdle | S |
| Not less the lover's strength How joyously | S |
| He strode unmindful of his ruffled curls | H2 |
| Whose perfumes still went wide upon the wind | A2 |
| His dust stained robe unheeded and the stones | H2 |
| Whose ragged edges frayed his delicate shoes | H2 |
| How radiant how full of hope he was | H2 |
| What pleasant memories how many things | H2 |
| Rose up again before me as I lay | S |
| Half stretched among the crushed anemones | H2 |
| And watched them till a far off jutting ledge | Z3 |
| Precluded sight still listening till mine ears | H2 |
| Caught the last vanishing murmur of their talk | S3 |
| - | |
| Only a little longer then we rose | H2 |
| With limbs refreshed and kept a swinging pace | H2 |
| Toward Corinth but our talk I know not why | N3 |
| Fell for that day I wonder what there was | H2 |
| About those dainty lovers or their speech | G3 |
| That changed Euktemon's mood for all the way | S |
| From high Cleonae to the city gates | H2 |
| Till sunset found us loitering without aim | I |
| Half lost among the dusky moving crowds | H2 |
| I could get nothing from him but dark looks | H2 |
| Short answers and the old defiant stride | A2 |
| Some memory pricked him It may be perchance | H2 |
| A woman's treachery some luckless passion | Z2 |
| In former days endured hath seared his blood | A2 |
| And dowered him with that cureless bitter humour | F2 |
| To him solitude and the wanderer's life | M2 |
| Alone are sweet the tumults of this world | A2 |
| A thing unworthy of the wise man's touch | G3 |
| Its joys and sorrows to be met alike | A4 |
| With broad browed scorn One quality at least | A2 |
| We have in common we are idlers both | L2 |
| Shifters and wanderers through this sleepless world | A2 |
| Albeit in different moods 'Tis that I think | D3 |
| That knit us and the universal need | A2 |
| For near companionship Howe'er it be | S |
| There is no hand that I would gladlier grasp | P3 |
| Either on earth or in the nether gloom | I |
| When the grey keel shall grind the Stygian strand | A2 |
| Than stern Euktemon's | H2 |
Archibald Lampman
(1)
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