Loud Without The Wind Was Roaring Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis

Rhyme Scheme: ABABCC DEDE DFDF GHGH IJIJ GKGK LHLH DMDM DNDN LOLO PBPB DQDQ DRDS NTN DHDH GNGN DUDV

Loud without the wind was roaringA
Through th' autumnal skyB
Drenching wet the cold rain pouringA
Spoke of winter nighB
All too like that dreary eveC
Did my exiled spirit grieveC
-
Grieved at first but grieved not longD
Sweet how softly sweet it cameE
Wild words of an ancient songD
Undefined without a nameE
-
'It was spring and the skylark was singing'D
Those words they awakened a spellF
They unlocked a deep fountain whose springingD
Nor absence nor distance can quellF
-
In the gloom of a cloudy NovemberG
They uttered the music of MayH
They kindled the perishing emberG
Into fervour that could not decayH
-
Awaken o'er all my dear moorlandI
West wind in thy glory and prideJ
Oh call me from valley and lowlandI
To walk by the hill torrent's sideJ
-
It is swelled with the first snowy weatherG
The rocks they are icy and hoarK
And sullenly waves the long heatherG
And the fern leaves are sunny no moreK
-
There are no yellow stars on the mountainL
The bluebells have long died awayH
From the brink of the moss bedded fountainL
From the side of the wintry braeH
-
But lovelier than corn fields all wavingD
In emerald and vermeil and goldM
Are the heights where the north wind is ravingD
And the crags where I wandered of oldM
-
It was morning the bright sun was beamingD
How sweetly it brought back to meN
The time when nor labour nor dreamingD
Broke the sleep of the happy and freeN
-
But blithely we rose as the dawn heavenL
Was melting to amber and blueO
And swift were the wings to our feet givenL
As we traversed the meadows of dewO
-
For the moors For the moors where the short grassP
Like velvet beneath us should lieB
For the moors For the moors where each high passP
Rose sunny against the clear skyB
-
For the moors where the linnet was trillingD
Its song on the old granite stoneQ
Where the lark the wild sky lark was fillingD
Every breast with delight like its ownQ
-
What language can utter the feelingD
Which rose when in exile afarR
On the brow of a lonely hill kneelingD
I saw the brown heath growing thereS
-
It was scattered and stunted and told meN
That soon even that would be goneT
It whispered 'The grim walls enfold meN
I have bloomed in my last summer's sun '-
-
But not the loved music whose wakingD
Makes the soul of the Swiss die awayH
Has a spell more adored and heartbreakingD
Than for me in that blighted heath layH
-
The spirit which bent 'neath its powerG
How it longed how it burned to be freeN
If I could have wept in that hourG
Those tears had been heaven to meN
-
Well well the sad minutes are movingD
Though loaded with trouble and painU
And some time the loved and the lovingD
Shall meet on the mountains againV

Emily Jane Bronta<<



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