The Hunting Horn Of Chalemagne Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis
Rhyme Scheme: AABBCCDDEE FFGGHH II JJKKLLMMNNII OOPQ RRSSTTUUVVWWXXWWYZ A2A2P II B2C2D2D2E2E2F2F2LLG2 G2WW MMJJII| SOUND not the Horn the guarded relic keep | A |
| A faithful sharer of its master's sleep | A |
| His life it gladden'd to his life belong'd | B |
| Pause ere thy lip the royal dead hath wrong'd | B |
| Its weary weight but mocks thy feeble hand | C |
| Its desolate note the shrine wherein we stand | C |
| Not such the sound it gave in days of yore | D |
| When that rich belt a monarch's bosom wore | D |
| Not such the sound Far over hill and dell | E |
| It waked the echoes with triumphant swell | E |
| - | |
| Heard midst the rushing of the torrent's fall | F |
| From castled crag to roofless ruin'd hall | F |
| Down the ravine's precipitous descent | G |
| Thro' the wild forest's rustling boughs it went | G |
| Upon the lake's blue bosom linger'd fond | H |
| And faintly answer'd from the hills beyond | H |
| - | |
| Pause the free winds that joyous blast have borne | I |
| Dead is the hunter silent be the horn | I |
| - | |
| Sound not the horn Bethink thee of the day | J |
| When to the chase an Emperor led the way | J |
| In all the pride of manhood's noblest prime | K |
| Untamed by sorrow and untired by time | K |
| Life's pulses throbbing in his eager breast | L |
| Glad active vigorous who is now at rest | L |
| How he gazed round him with his eagle eye | M |
| Leapt the dark rocks that frown against the sky | M |
| Grasp'd the long spear and curb'd the panting steed | N |
| Whose fine nerves quiver with his headlong speed | N |
| At the wild cry of danger smiled in scorn | I |
| And firmly sounded that re echoing horn | I |
| - | |
| Ah let no touch the ivory tube profane | O |
| Which drank the breath of living Charlemagne | O |
| Let not like blast by meaner lips be blown | P |
| But by the hunter's side the horn lay down | Q |
| - | |
| Or following to his palace dream we now | R |
| Not of the hunter's strength or forest bough | R |
| But woman's love HER offering this perchance | S |
| This granted to each stranger's casual glance | S |
| This gazed upon with coldly curious eyes | T |
| Was giv'n with blushes and received with sighs | T |
| We see her not no mournful angel stands | U |
| To guard her love gift from our careless hands | U |
| But fancy brings a vision to our view | V |
| A woman's form the trusted and the true | V |
| The strong to suffer tho' so weak to dare | W |
| Patient to watch thro' many a day of care | W |
| Devoted anxious generous void of guile | X |
| And with her whole heart's welcome in her smile | X |
| Even such I see Her maidens too are there | W |
| And wake with chorus sweet some native air | W |
| But tho' her proud heart holds her country dear | Y |
| And tho' she loves those happy songs to hear | Z |
| - | |
| She bids the tale be hush'd the harp be still | A2 |
| For one faint blast that dies along the hill | A2 |
| Up up she springs her young head backward thrown | P |
| 'He comes my hunter comes Mine own mine own ' | - |
| - | |
| She loves and she is loved her gift is worn | I |
| 'Tis fancy all And yet lay down the horn | I |
| - | |
| Love life what are ye since to love and live | B2 |
| No surer record to our times can give | C2 |
| Low lies the hero now whose spoken name | D2 |
| Could fire with glory or with love inflame | D2 |
| Low lies the arm of might the form of pride | E2 |
| And dim tradition dreameth by his side | E2 |
| Desolate stand those painted palace halls | F2 |
| And gradual ruin mines the massy walls | F2 |
| Where frank hearts greeted many a welcome guest | L |
| And loudly rang the beaker and the jest | L |
| While here within this chapel's narrow bound | G2 |
| Whose frozen silence startles to the sound | G2 |
| Of stranger voices ringing thro' the air | W |
| Of faintly echoes many a humble prayer | W |
| - | |
| Here where the window narrow arch'd and high | M |
| With jealous bars shuts out the free blue sky | M |
| Where glimmers down with various painted ray | J |
| A prison'd portion of God's glorious day | J |
| Where never comes the breezy breath of morn | I |
| Here mighty hunter feebly wakes thy horn | I |
Caroline Elizabeth Sarah Norton
(1)
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