The Bothie Of Tober-na-vuolich - Viii Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis
Rhyme Scheme: A B C DEFEGAHIHGFGHEEJEFEG HFFKDLEFGHKEGMGGGDFE FNEEKHFJEFOKKDHDKHKH EHKEFPKHQR KSHHGJDGFTHUHGGVFKJK WXKYBZWJWKFJGKKHKKEK SCCHKJDA2KHKHHKBHLHH HTODHKFB2NHHKNFFNNLL HDHFFDNHDFLHHKLFHGKH KGNHHKHLC2D2NKX| A Long Vacation Pastoral | A |
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| VIII | B |
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| Jam veniet virgo jam dicetur hymen us | C |
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| But a revulsion again came over the spirit of Elspie | D |
| When she thought of his wealth his birth and education | E |
| Wealth indeed but small though to her a difference truly | F |
| Father nor mother had Philip a thousand pounds his portion | E |
| Somewhat impaired in a world where nothing is had for nothing | G |
| Fortune indeed but small and prospects plain and simple | A |
| But the many things that he knew and the ease of a practised | H |
| Intellect's motion and all those indefinable graces | I |
| Were they not hers too Philip to speech and manner and movement | H |
| Lent by the knowledge of self and wisely instructed feeling | G |
| When she thought of these and these contemplated daily | F |
| Daily appreciating more and more exactly appraising | G |
| With these thoughts and the terror withal of a thing she could not | H |
| Estimate and of a step such a step in the dark to be taken | E |
| Terror nameless and ill understood of deserting her station | E |
| Daily heavier heavier upon her pressed the sorrow | J |
| Daily distincter distincter within her arose the conviction | E |
| He was too high too perfect and she so unfit so unworthy | F |
| Ah me Philip that ever a word such as that should be written | E |
| It would do neither for him nor for her she also was something | G |
| Not much indeed it was true yet not to be lightly extinguished | H |
| Should he he she said have a wife beneath him herself be | F |
| An inferior there where only equality can be | F |
| It would do neither for him nor for her | K |
| Alas for Philip | D |
| Many were tears and great was perplexity Nor had availed then | L |
| All his prayer and all his device But much was spoken | E |
| Now between Adam and Elspie companions were they hourly | F |
| Much by Elspie to Adam enquiring anxiously seeking | G |
| From his experience seeking impartial accurate statement | H |
| What it was to do this or do that go hither or thither | K |
| How in the after life would seem what now seeming certain | E |
| Might so soon be reversed in her quest and obscure exploring | G |
| Still from that quiet orb soliciting light to her footsteps | M |
| Much by Elspie to Adam enquiring eagerly seeking | G |
| Much by Adam to Elspie informing reassuring | G |
| Much that was sweet to Elspie by Adam heedfully speaking | G |
| Quietly indirectly in general terms of Philip | D |
| Gravely but indirectly not as incognisant wholly | F |
| But as suspending until she should seek it direct intimation | E |
| Much that was sweet in her heart of what he was and would be | F |
| Much that was strength to her mind confirming beliefs and insights | N |
| Pure and unfaltering but young and mute and timid for action | E |
| Much of relations of rich and poor and of true education | E |
| It was on Saturday eve in the gorgeous bright October | K |
| Then when brackens are changed and heather blooms are faded | H |
| And amid russet of heather and fern green trees are bonnie | F |
| Alders are green and oaks the rowan scarlet and yellow | J |
| One great glory of broad gold pieces appears the aspen | E |
| And the jewels of gold that were hung in the hair of the birch tree | F |
| Pendulous here and there her coronet necklace and ear rings | O |
| Cover her now o'er and o'er she is weary and scatters them from her | K |
| There upon Saturday eve in the gorgeous bright October | K |
| Under the alders knitting gave Elspie her troth to Philip | D |
| For as they talked anon she said | H |
| It is well Mr Philip | D |
| Yes it is well I have spoken and learnt a deal with the teacher | K |
| At the last I told him all I could not help it | H |
| And it came easier with him than could have been with my father | K |
| And he calmly approved as one that had fully considered | H |
| Yes it is well I have hoped though quite too great and sudden | E |
| I am so fearful I think it ought not to be for years yet | H |
| I am afraid but believe in you and I trust to the teacher | K |
| You have done all things gravely and temperate not as in passion | E |
| And the teacher is prudent and surely can tell what is likely | F |
| What my father will say I know not we will obey him | P |
| But for myself I could dare to believe all well and venture | K |
| O Mr Philip may it never hereafter seem to be different | H |
| And she hid her face | Q |
| Oh where but in Philip's bosom | R |
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| After some silence some tears too perchance Philip laughed and said to her | K |
| So my own Elspie at last you are clear that I'm bad enough for you | S |
| Ah but your father won't make one half the question about it | H |
| You have he'll think me I know nor better nor worse than Donald | H |
| Neither better nor worse for my gentlemanship and bookwork | G |
| Worse I fear as he knows me an idle and vagabond fellow | J |
| Though he allows but he'll think it was all for your sake Elspie | D |
| Though he allows I did some good at the end of the shearing | G |
| But I had thought in Scotland you didn't care for this folly | F |
| How I wish he said you had lived all your days in the Highlands | T |
| This is what comes of the year you spent in our foolish England | H |
| You do not all of you feel these fancies | U |
| No she answered | H |
| And in her spirit the freedom and ancient joy was reviving | G |
| No she said and uplifted herself and looked for her knitting | G |
| No nor do I dear Philip I don't myself feel always | V |
| As I have felt more sorrow for me these four days lately | F |
| Like the Peruvian Indians I read about last winter | K |
| Out in America there in somebody's life of Pizarro | J |
| Who were as good perhaps as the Spaniards only weaker | K |
| And that the one big tree might spread its root and branches | W |
| All the lesser about it must even be felled and perish | X |
| No I feel much more as if I as well as you were | K |
| Somewhere a leaf on the one great tree that up from old time | Y |
| Growing contains in itself the whole of the virtue and life of | B |
| Bygone days drawing now to itself all kindreds and nations | Z |
| And must have for itself the whole world for its root and branches | W |
| No I belong to the tree I shall not decay in the shadow | J |
| Yes and I feel the life juices of all the world and the ages | W |
| Coming to me as to you more slowly no doubt and poorer | K |
| You are more near but then you will help to convey them to me | F |
| No don't smile Philip now so scornfully While you look so | J |
| Scornful and strong I feel as if I were standing and trembling | G |
| Fancying the burn in the dark a wide and rushing river | K |
| And I feel coming unto me from you or it may be from elsewhere | K |
| Strong contemptuous resolve I forget and I bound as across it | H |
| But after all you know it may be a dangerous river | K |
| Oh if it were so Elspie he said I can carry you over | K |
| Nay she replied you would tire of having me for a burden | E |
| O sweet burden he said and are you not light as a feather | K |
| But it is deep very likely she said over head and ears too | S |
| O let us try he answered the waters themselves will support us | C |
| Yea very ripples and waves will form to a boat underneath us | C |
| There is a boat he said and a name is written upon it | H |
| Love he said and kissed her | K |
| But I will read your books though | J |
| Said she you'll leave me some Philip | D |
| Not I replied he a volume | A2 |
| This is the way with you all I perceive high and low together | K |
| Women must read as if they didn't know all beforehand | H |
| Weary of plying the pump we turn to the running water | K |
| And the running spring will needs have a pump built upon it | H |
| Weary and sick of our books we come to repose in your eyelight | H |
| As to the woodland and water the freshness and beauty of Nature | K |
| Lo you will talk forsooth of things we are sick to the death of | B |
| What she said and if I have let you become my sweetheart | H |
| I am to read no books but you may go your ways then | L |
| And I will read she said with my father at home as I used to | H |
| If you must have it he said I myself will read them to you | H |
| Well she said but no I will read to myself when I choose it | H |
| What you suppose we never read anything here in our Highlands | T |
| Bella and I with the father in all our winter evenings | O |
| But we must go Mr Philip | D |
| I shall not go at all said | H |
| He if you call me Mr Thank heaven that's over for ever | K |
| No but it's not she said it is not over nor will be | F |
| Was it not then she asked the name I called you first by | B2 |
| No Mr Philip no you have kissed me enough for two nights | N |
| No come Philip come or I'll go myself without you | H |
| You never call me Philip he answered until I kiss you | H |
| As they went home by the moon that waning now rose later | K |
| Stepping through mossy stones by the runnel under the alders | N |
| Loitering unconsciously Philip she said I will not be a lady | F |
| We will do work together you do not wish me a lady | F |
| It is a weakness perhaps and a foolishness still it is so | N |
| I have been used all my life to help myself and others | N |
| I could not bear to sit and be waited upon by footmen | L |
| No not even by women | L |
| And God forbid he answered | H |
| God forbid you should ever be aught but yourself my Elspie | D |
| As for service I love it not I your weakness is mine too | H |
| I am sure Adam told you as much as that about me | F |
| I am sure she said he called you wild and flighty | F |
| That was true he said till my wings were clipped But my Elspie | D |
| You will at least just go and see my uncle and cousins | N |
| Sister and brother and brother's wife You should go if you liked it | H |
| Just as you are just what you are at any rate my Elspie | D |
| Yes we will go and give the old solemn gentility stageplay | F |
| One little look to leave it with all the more satisfaction | L |
| That may be my Philip she said you are good to think of it | H |
| But we are letting our fancies run on indeed after all it | H |
| May all come you know Mr Philip to nothing whatever | K |
| There is so much that needs to be done so much that may happen | L |
| All that needs to be done said he shall be done and quickly | F |
| And on the morrow he took good heart and spoke with David | H |
| Not unwarned the father nor had been unperceiving | G |
| Fearful much but in all from the first reassured by the Tutor | K |
| And he remembered how he had fancied the lad from the first and | H |
| Then too the old man's eye was much more for inner than outer | K |
| And the natural tune of his heart without misgiving | G |
| Went to the noble words of that grand song of the Lowlands | N |
| Rank is the guinea stamp but the man's a man for a' that | H |
| Still he was doubtful would hear nothing of it now but insisted | H |
| Philip should go to his books if he chose he might write if after | K |
| Chose to return might come he truly believed him honest | H |
| But a year must elapse and many things might happen | L |
| Yet at the end he burst into tears called Elspie and blessed them | C2 |
| Elspie my bairn he said I thought not when at the doorway | D2 |
| Standing with you and telling the young man where he would find us | N |
| I did not think he would one day be asking me here to surrender | K |
| What is to me more than wealth in my Bothie of Tober na vuolich | X |
Arthur Hugh Clough
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The Bothie Of Tober-na-vuolich - Viii is a poem by Arthur Hugh Clough. This page includes the poem text, poet information, related topics, comments, and similar poems.
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