Under The Trees Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis

Rhyme Scheme: AAAAAAAAAAABBBBBBBBB BBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBB BBB

Under the trees Who but agreesA
That there is magic in words such as theseA
Promptly one sees shake in the breezeA
Stately lime avenues haunted of beesA
Where looking far over buttercupp'd leasA
Lads and fair shes that is Byron and he'sA
An authority lie very much at their easeA
Taking their teas or their duck and green peasA
Or if they prefer it their plain bread and cheeseA
Not objecting at all though it's rather a squeezeA
And the glass is I daresay at degreesA
Some get up glees and are mad about RiesB
And Sainton and Tamberlik's thrilling high CsB
Or if painters hold forth upon Hunt and MacliseB
And the tone and the breadth of that landscape of Lee'sB
Or if learned on nodes and the moon's apogeesB
Or if serious on something of AKHB'sB
Or the latest attempt to convert the ChaldeesB
Or in short about all things from earthquakes to fleasB
Some sit in twos or less frequently threesB
With their innocent lambswool or book on their kneesB
And talk and enact any nonsense you pleaseB
As they gaze into eyes that are blue as the seasB
And you hear an occasional Harry don't teaseB
From the sweetest of lips in the softest of keysB
And other remarks which to me are ChineseB
And fast the time flees till a ladylike sneezeB
Or a portly papa's more elaborate wheezeB
Makes Miss Tabitha seize on her brown muffateesB
And announce as a fact that it's going to freezeB
And that young people ought to attend to their PsB
And their Qs and not court every form of diseaseB
Then Tommy eats up the three last ratafiasB
And pretty Louise wraps her robe de ceriseB
Round a bosom as tender as Widow Machree'sB
And in spite of the pleas of her lorn vis a visB
Goes to wrap up her uncle a patient of Skey'sB
Who is prone to catch chills like all old BengaleseB
But at bedtime I trust he'll remember to greaseB
The bridge of his nose and preserve his rupeesB
From the premature clutch of his fond legateesB
Or at least have no fees to pay any M D sB
For the cold his niece caught sitting under the TreesB

Charles Stuart Calverley



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