A Basket Of Summer Fruit Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis
Rhyme Scheme: ABCB DEDE FGFH CICI JKJK LMLM NONO PQPQ RSGS TUTU VQVQ| First see those ample melons brindled o'er | A |
| With mingled green and brown is all the rind | B |
| For they are ripe and mealy at the core | C |
| And saturate with the nectar of their kind | B |
| - | |
| And here their fellows of the marsh are set | D |
| Covering their sweetness with a crumpled skin | E |
| Pomegranates next flame red without and yet | D |
| With vegetable crystals stored within | E |
| - | |
| Then mark these brilliant oranges of which | F |
| A by gone Poet fancifully said | G |
| Their unplucked globes the orchard did enrich | F |
| Like Lolden lamps in a green nilht of shade | H |
| - | |
| With these are lemons that are even more | C |
| Golden than they and which adorn our Rhyme | I |
| As did rough pendants of barbaric ore | C |
| Some pillared temple of the olden time | I |
| - | |
| And here are peaches with their ruddy cheeks | J |
| And ripe transparency Here nectarines bloom | K |
| All mottled as with discontinuous streaks | J |
| And spread a fruity fragrance through the room | K |
| - | |
| With these are cherries mellow to the stone | L |
| Into such ripeness bath the summer nursed them | M |
| The velvet pressure of the tongue alone | L |
| Against the palate were enough to burst them | M |
| - | |
| Here too are plums like edible rubies glowing | N |
| The language of lush summer's Eden theme | O |
| Even through the skin how temptingly keeps showing | N |
| Their juicy comfort a rich clouded gleam | O |
| - | |
| Here too are figs pears apples plucked in haste | P |
| Our summer treat judiciously to vary | Q |
| With apricots so exquisite in taste | P |
| And yellow as the breast of a canary | Q |
| - | |
| And luscious strawberries all faceted | R |
| With glittering lobes and all the lovelier seen | S |
| In contrast with the loquat's duller red | G |
| And vulgar gooseberry's unlustrous green | S |
| - | |
| And lastly bunches of rich blooded grapes | T |
| Whose vineyard bloom even yet about them clings | U |
| Though ever in the handling it escapes | T |
| Like the fine down upon a moth's bright wings | U |
| - | |
| Each kind is piled in order in the Basket | V |
| Which we might well imagine now to be | Q |
| Transmuted into a great golden casket | V |
| Entreasuring Pomona's jewelry | Q |
Charles Harpur
(1)
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