To Sylvia Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis

Rhyme Scheme: ABCDDC EFFGGHII JKLJMMNMOOPMQR SSTUTMMVMWV XYNMZA2NA2B2 CC2D2NIE2IF2G2CCH2NI 2M

O Sylvia dost thou remember stillA
That period of thy mortal lifeB
When beauty so bewilderingC
Shone in thy laughing glancing eyesD
As thou so merry yet so wiseD
Youth's threshold then wast enteringC
-
How did the quiet roomsE
And all the paths aroundF
With thy perpetual song resoundF
As thou didst sit on woman's work intentG
Abundantly contentG
With the vague future floating on thy mindH
Thy custom thus to spend the dayI
In that sweet time of youth and MayI
-
How could I then at timesJ
In those fair days of youthK
The only happy days I ever knewL
My hard tasks dropping or my careless rhymesJ
My station take on father's balconyM
And listen to thy voice's melodyM
And watch thy hands as they would deftly flyN
O'er thy embroideryM
I gazed upon the heaven sereneO
The sun lit paths the orchards greenO
The distant mountain hereP
And there the far off seaM
Ah mortal tongue cannot expressQ
What then I felt of happinessR
-
What gentle thoughts what hopes divineS
What loving hearts O Sylvia mineS
In what bright colors then portrayedT
Were human life and fateU
Oh when I think of such fond hopes betrayedT
A feeling seizes meM
Of bitterness and miseryM
And tenfold is my grief renewedV
O Nature why this treacheryM
Why thus with broken promisesW
Thy children's hearts deludeV
-
Thou ere the grass was touched with winter's frostX
By fell disease attacked and overcomeY
O tender plant didst dieN
The flower of thy days thou ne'er didst seeM
Nor did thy soft heart moveZ
Now of thy raven locks the tender praiseA2
Now of thy eyes so loving and so shyN
Nor with thee on the holidaysA2
Did thy companions talk of loveB2
-
So perished too erelongC
My own sweet hopeC2
So too unto my yearsD2
Did Fate their youth denyN
Alas alas the dayI
Lamented hope companion dearE2
How hast thou passed awayI
Is this that world These the delightsF2
The love the labors the eventsG2
Of which we once so fondly spokeC
And must all mortals wear this weary yokeC
Ah when the truth appearedH2
It better seemed to dieN
Cold death the barren tomb didst thou preferI2
To harsh realityM

Count Giacomo Leopardi



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