The Wind-s Tidings In August 1870 Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis

Rhyme Scheme: ABACDCDEDF G HIJIKIKGK LL MNMNONOPO N EHG GQGQR S

'OH voice of summer winds among the treesA
What soft news art thou bringing to us hereB
Dost thou come whispering of hushed scenes like theseA
Languid in sunlight while the drowsy deerC
Couch placidly at rest and from the brakeD
The song of fearless wild birds rings out clearC
And groves and meadows and this baby lakeD
Are dreaming to thy dreaming lullabyE
Art telling of hushed scenes like these AwakeD
Answer sweet dying wind and do not die 'F
-
And the voice of the faint winds dying awayG
Answered me 'Nay '-
-
'Oh voice of summer winds then art thou comeH
From fluttering in the tangles of the vinesI
Beside the blue blue seas in the far homeJ
Of the dim olives and the dusky pinesI
And from the cypress bosks and where the airK
Grows lush and heavy 'twixt the dark starred linesI
Of orange hedge a bloom and the wide glareK
Floods soft round hills with southern perfect dayG
Answer again low voice hast thou been thereK
Art telling of the dreamland far away '-
-
And the voice of the winds sighed over my headL
'Nay nay ' it saidL
-
'Oh sweet low voice of winds whose wavering flightsM
Smoothly like flickering swallows come and goN
What is thy tale of where the ceaseless heightsM
Rest white and cloudlike in their virgin snowN
Hast thou been wandering round the scented firsO
And where the dauntless shrub flowers bud and blowN
Against the pale chill sea that never stirsO
And where the midway foam hangs o'er the cleftP
Speak slumbrous voice to slumbrous listenersO
Art telling us of these that thou hast left '-
-
And the voice of the dying winds breathed lowN
'Nay nay not so '-
-
'Oh voice of dying winds make sweet replyE
Whence hast thou comeH
What does thy whisper sayG
Answer oh dying voice and do not die '-
It whispered in a hush 'The dead men layG
Fallen together like the sickled grainQ
Onward still dashed the whirlwind and the frayG
The thunders and the tramplings shook the plainQ
There was the crash and clash of host to hostR
Throes and the blood pools widening death and pain '-
And waning in a murmur it was lostS

Augusta Davies Webster



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