The Wood-spring To The Poet Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis

Rhyme Scheme: AABACCDEFGFHHIIHJKLL MM NOPP HHHHQQRHSTR HHUVWWXYXZZA2KMM B2C2HHGHG ND2E2D2E2E2F2E2F2G2H 2F2 I2I2J2ZJ2Z XK2XK2XXXXL2X HJ2M2M2HHHM2M2M2M2M2 NON2O2O2O2M2HO2H M2M2P2P2D2D2M2M2Q2Q2 HHQ2

Dawn cool dew coolA
Gleams the surface of my poolA
Bird haunted fern enchantedB
Where but tempered spirits ruleA
Stars do not trace their mystic linesC
In my confinesC
I take a double night within my breastD
A night of darkened heavens a night of leavesE
And in the two fold dark I hear the owlF
Puff at his velvet hornG
And the wolves howlF
Even daylight comes with a touch of goldH
Not overboldH
And shows dwarf cornel and the twin flowersI
Below the balsam bowersI
Their tints enamelled in my dew drop shieldH
Too small even for a thirsty fawnJ
To quench uponK
I hold my crystal at one levelL
There where you see the liquid bevelL
Break in silver and go freeM
Singing to its destinyM
-
Give Poet giveN
Thus only shalt thou liveO
Give for 'tis thy joyous doomP
To charm to comfort to illumeP
-
Speak to the maiden and the childH
With accents deep and mildH
Tell them of the world so wideH
In words of wonder and pure prideH
Touched with the rapture of surpriseQ
That dwells in a child angel's eyesQ
Awed with the strangeness of new birthR
When the flaming seraph sentH
To lead him into ParadiseS
Calls his name with the mother's voiceT
He has just ceased to hear on earthR
-
Give to the youth his heart's contentH
But power with prudence blentH
Thicken his sinews with loveU
With courage his heart proveV
Till over his spirit shall rollW
The vast wave of controlW
In the cages and dens of strifeX
Where men draw breathY
Thick with a curse at the dear thing called lifeX
Give them courage to bearZ
Strength to aspire and dareZ
Give them hopes rooted in stoneA2
That the loveliest flowers take onK
Bind on their brows with a gesture freeM
The palm green bays of libertyM
-
Give to the mothers of menB2
The knowledge of joy in painC2
Give them the sense of rewardH
That grew in the breast of the LordH
On the dawn of the seventh mornG
For 'tis they who re create the worldH
Whenever a child is bornG
-
Give Poet giveN
Give them songs that charm and fillD2
The soul with an alluring pleasureE2
Prelusive to a deeper thrillD2
A richer tone a fuller measureE2
Like voices veiled with hidden treasureE2
Of angels on a windy morningF2
That first far off then all togetherE2
Come with a glorious clarion callingF2
And when they swoon beneath the spellG2
Recapture them to hear the echoesH2
Falling falling fallingF2
-
To those stoned for the truthI2
Give ruthI2
Give manna for the mourner's mouthJ2
Sovereign as airZ
For his heart's drouthJ2
A prayerZ
-
Give to dead souls that mock at lifeX
Aweary of their cankered heartsK2
Weary of sleep and weary of strifeX
Weary of markets and of artsK2
Helve them a song of lifeX
Two edged with joyous lifeX
Tempered trusty with lifeX
Proud pointed with wild lifeX
Plunge it as lightning plungesL2
Stab them to lifeX
-
Give to those who grieve in secretH
Those who bear the sorrows of earthJ2
The deep unappeasable longingsM2
Which beset them with throngings and throngingsM2
As on a windless nightH
Through the fold of a dark mantle furledH
Gleams on our world world after unknown worldH
Give them peaceM2
Wide as the veil that hides God's faceM2
The pure plenitude of spaceM2
In which our universe is but a glittering creaseM2
Give them such peaceM2
-
Give Poet giveN
Thus only shalt thou liveO
Give as we give who are hiddenN2
In myriad dimples of rock and fernO2
Give as we give unbiddenO2
To tarn and rillet and burnO2
Where the lake dreamsM2
Where the fall is hurledH
Striving to sweetenO2
The oceans of the worldH
-
Should my song for a moment ceaseM2
Silence fall in the woodland peaceM2
Should I wilfully check the flowP2
Bubbling and dancing up from belowP2
Say to my heart be still be stillD2
Let the murmur die with the rillD2
Then should the glittering grey sea thingsM2
Sigh as they wallow the under springsM2
Where the deep brine pools used to lieQ2
Deserts vast would stare at the skyQ2
And even thy rich heartH
O Poet PoetH
Even thy rich heart run dryQ2

Duncan Campbell Scott



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