Puella Mea Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis
Rhyme Scheme: AABB BBCCCACBCACDECFGABBH CICCIBAD JJKKABAABBLMALAMBABN OONNBPPABAAQARASABQ BBB BB BTUUVVTFVALLVGBBBVTW VAVWAVXXVAVD DYAYLAALAVVAAVVAVAVL VVVVBB AABBVVAABBV VAAZZVVA2A2AAVVBBA2A 2 A2BBBBBBABBBBBB2BBBC 2 D2B VVD2BC2C2AAAACCA2A2 AAAVAVAVVVVAAABAABAE HBBE2 C2C2C2AC2A BVVAAVC2C2BBA2VBVA2V VF2BVG2A2V AA| Harun Omar and Master Hafiz | A |
| keep your dead beautiful ladies | A |
| Mine is a little lovelier | B |
| than any of your ladies were | B |
| - | |
| In her perfectest array | B |
| my lady moving in the day | B |
| is a little stranger thing | C |
| than crisp Sheba with her king | C |
| in the morning wandering | C |
| Through the young and awkward hours | A |
| my lady perfectly moving | C |
| through the new world scarce astir | B |
| my fragile lady wandering | C |
| in whose perishable poise | A |
| is the mystery of Spring | C |
| with her beauty more than snow | D |
| dexterous and fugitive | E |
| my very frail lady drifting | C |
| distinctly moving like a myth | F |
| in the uncertain morning with | G |
| April feet like sudden flowers | A |
| and all her body filled with May | B |
| moving in the unskilful day | B |
| my lady utterly alive | H |
| to me is a more curious thing | C |
| a thing more nimble and complete | I |
| than ever to Judea's king | C |
| were the shapely sharp cunning | C |
| and withal delirious feet | I |
| of the Princess Salom | B |
| carefully dancing in the noise | A |
| of Herod's silence long ago | D |
| - | |
| If she a little turn her head | J |
| I know that I am wholly dead | J |
| nor ever did on such a throat | K |
| the lips of Tristram slowly dote | K |
| La beale Isoud whose leman was | A |
| And if my lady look at me | B |
| with her eyes which like two elves | A |
| incredibly amuse themselves | A |
| with a look of faerie | B |
| perhaps a little suddenly | B |
| as sometimes the improbable | L |
| beauty of my lady will | M |
| at her glance my spirit shies | A |
| rearing as in the miracle | L |
| of a lady who had eyes | A |
| which the king's horses might not kill | M |
| But should my lady smile it were | B |
| a flower of so pure surprise | A |
| it were so very new a flower | B |
| a flower so frail a flower so glad | N |
| as trembling used to yield with dew | O |
| when the world was young and new | O |
| a flower such as the world had | N |
| in springtime when the world was mad | N |
| and Launcelot spoke to Guenever | B |
| a flower which most heavy hung | P |
| with silence when the world was young | P |
| and Diarmid looked in Grania's eyes | A |
| But should my lady's beauty play | B |
| at not speaking sometimes as | A |
| it will the silence of her face | A |
| doth immediately make | Q |
| in my heart so great a noise | A |
| as in the sharp and thirsty blood | R |
| of Paris would not all the Troys | A |
| of Helen's beauty never did | S |
| Lord Jason in impossible things | A |
| victorious impossibly | B |
| so wholly burn to undertake | Q |
| - | |
| Medea's rescuing eyes nor he | B |
| when swooned the white egyptian day | B |
| who with Egypt's body lay | B |
| - | |
| Lovely as those ladies were | B |
| mine is a little lovelier | B |
| - | |
| And if she speak in her frail way | B |
| it is wholly to bewitch | T |
| my smallest thought with a most swift | U |
| radiance wherein slowly drift | U |
| murmurous things divinely bright | V |
| it is foolingly to smite | V |
| my spirit with the lithe free twitch | T |
| of scintillant space with the cool writhe | F |
| of gloom truly which syncopate | V |
| some sunbeam's skilful fingerings | A |
| it is utterly to lull | L |
| with foliate inscrutable | L |
| sweetness my soul obedient | V |
| it is to stroke my being with | G |
| numbing forests frolicsome | B |
| fleetly mystical aroam | B |
| with keen creatures of idiom | B |
| beings alert and innocent | V |
| very deftly upon which | T |
| indolent miracles impinge | W |
| it is distinctly to confute | V |
| my reason with the deep caress | A |
| of every most shy thing and mute | V |
| it is to quell me with the twinge | W |
| of all living intense things | A |
| Never my soul so fortunate | V |
| is past the luck of all dead men | X |
| and loving as invisibly when | X |
| upon her palpable solitude | V |
| a furtive occult fragrance steals | A |
| a gesture of immaculate | V |
| perfume whereby with fear aglow | D |
| - | |
| my soul is wont wholly to know | D |
| the poignant instantaneous fern | Y |
| whose scrupulous enchanted fronds | A |
| toward all things intrinsic yearn | Y |
| the immanent subliminal | L |
| fern of her delicious voice | A |
| of her voice which always dwells | A |
| beside the vivid magical | L |
| impetuous and utter ponds | A |
| of dream and very secret food | V |
| its leaves inimitable find | V |
| beyond the white authentic springs | A |
| beyond the sweet instinctive wells | A |
| which make to flourish the minute | V |
| spontaneous meadow of her mind | V |
| the vocal fern alway which feels | A |
| the keen ecstatic actual tread | V |
| and thereto perfectly responds | A |
| of all things exquisite and dead | V |
| all living things and beautiful | L |
| - | |
| Caliph and king their ladies had | V |
| to love them and to make them glad | V |
| when the world was young and mad | V |
| in the city of Bagdad | V |
| mine is a little lovelier | B |
| than any of their ladies were | B |
| - | |
| Her body is most beauteous | A |
| being for all things amorous | A |
| fashioned very curiously | B |
| of roses and of ivory | B |
| The immaculate crisp head | V |
| is such as only certain dead | V |
| and careful painters love to use | A |
| for their youngest angels whose | A |
| praising bodies in a row | B |
| between slow glories fleetly go | B |
| Upon a keen and lovely throat | V |
| - | |
| the strangeness of her face doth float | V |
| which in eyes and lips consists | A |
| alway upon the mouth there trysts | A |
| curvingly a fragile smile | Z |
| which like a flower lieth while | Z |
| within the eyes is dimly heard | V |
| a wistful and precarious bird | V |
| Springing from fragrant shoulders small | A2 |
| ardent and perfectly withal | A2 |
| smooth to stroke and sweet to see | A |
| as a supple and young tree | A |
| her slim lascivious arms alight | V |
| in skilful wrists which hint at flight | V |
| my lady's very singular | B |
| and slenderest hands moreover are | B |
| which as lilies smile and quail | A2 |
| of all things perfect the most frail | A2 |
| - | |
| Whoso rideth in the tale | A2 |
| of Chaucer knoweth many a pair | B |
| of companions blithe and fair | B |
| who to walk with Master Gower | B |
| in Confessio doth prefer | B |
| shall not lack for beauty there | B |
| nor he that will amaying go | B |
| with my lord Boccaccio | A |
| whoso knocketh at the door | B |
| of Marie and of Maleore | B |
| findeth of ladies goodly store | B |
| whose beauty did in nothing err | B |
| If to me there shall appear | B |
| than a rose more sweetly known | B2 |
| more silently than a flower | B |
| my lady naked in her hair | B |
| I for those ladies nothing care | B |
| nor any lady dead and gone | C2 |
| - | |
| When the world was like a song | D2 |
| heard behind a golden door | B |
| - | |
| poet and sage and caliph had | V |
| to love them and to make them glad | V |
| ladies with lithe eyes and long | D2 |
| when the world was like a flower | B |
| Omar Hafiz and Harun | C2 |
| loved their ladies in the moon | C2 |
| fashioned very curiously | A |
| of roses and ivory | A |
| if naked she appear to me | A |
| my flesh is an enchanted tree | A |
| with her lips' most frail parting | C |
| my body hears the cry of Spring | C |
| and with their frailest syllable | A2 |
| its leaves go crisp with miracle | A2 |
| - | |
| Love maker of my lady | A |
| in that alway beyond this | A |
| poem or any poem she | A |
| of whose body words are afraid | V |
| perfectly beautiful is | A |
| forgive these words which I have made | V |
| And never boast your dead beauties | A |
| you greatest lovers in the world | V |
| never boast your beauties dead | V |
| who with Grania strangely fled | V |
| who with Egypt went to bed | V |
| whom white thighed Semiramis | A |
| put up her mouth to wholly kiss | A |
| never boast your dead beauties | A |
| mine being unto me sweeter | B |
| of whose why delicious glance | A |
| things which never more shall be | A |
| perfect things of faerie | B |
| are intense inhabitants | A |
| in whose warm superlative | E |
| body do distinctly live | H |
| all sweet cities passed away | B |
| in her flesh at break of day | B |
| are the smells of Nineveh | E2 |
| - | |
| in her eyes when day is gone | C2 |
| are the cries of Babylon | C2 |
| Diarmid Paris and Solomon | C2 |
| Omar Harun and Master Hafiz | A |
| to me your ladies are all one | C2 |
| keep your dead beautiful ladies | A |
| - | |
| Eater of all things lovely Time | B |
| upon whose watering lips the world | V |
| poises a moment futile proud | V |
| a costly morsel of sweet tears | A |
| gesticulates and disappears | A |
| of all dainties which do crowd | V |
| gaily upon oblivion | C2 |
| sweeter than any there is one | C2 |
| to touch it is the fear of rhyme | B |
| in life's very fragile hour | B |
| when the world was like a tale | A2 |
| made of laughter and of dew | V |
| was a flight a flower a flame | B |
| was a tendril fleetly curled | V |
| upon frailness used to stroll | A2 |
| very slowly one or two | V |
| ladies like flowers made | V |
| softly used to wholly move | F2 |
| slender ladies made of dream | B |
| in the lazy world and new | V |
| sweetly used to laugh and love | G2 |
| ladies with crisp eyes and frail | A2 |
| in the city of Bagdad | V |
| - | |
| Keep your dead beautiful ladies | A |
| Harun Omar and Master Hafiz | A |
E. E. Cummings
(1)
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About Puella Mea
Puella Mea is a poem by E. E. Cummings. This page includes the poem text, poet information, related topics, comments, and similar poems.
