The Abencerrage : Canto Ii. Poem Rhyme Scheme

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Fair land of chivalry the old domain	A
Land of the vine and olive lovely Spain	A
Though not for thee with classic shores to vie	B
In charms that fix the enthusiast's pensive eye	B
Yet hast thou scenes of beauty richly fraught	C
With all that wakes the glow of lofty thought	C
Fountains and vales and rocks whose ancient name	D
High deeds have raised to mingle with their fame	D
Those scenes are peaceful now the citron blows	E
Wild spreads the myrtle where the brave repose	E
No sound of battle swells on Douro's shore	F
And banners wave on Ebro's banks no more	F
But who unmoved unawed shall coldly tread	G
Thy fields that sepulchre the mighty dead	G
Blest be that soil where England's heroes share	H
The grave of chiefs for ages slumbering there	H
Whose names are glorious in romantic lays	I
The wild sweet chronicles of elder days	I
By goathered lone and rude serrano sung	J
Thy cypress dells and vine clad rocks among	J
How oft those rocks have echoed to the tale	K
Of knights who fell in Roncesvalles' vale	K
Of him renowned in old heroic lore	F
First of the brave the gallant Campeador	F
Of those the famed in song who proudly died	L
When 'Rio Verde' rolled a crimson tide	L
Or that high name by Garcilaso's might	M
On the green Vega won in single fight	M
	-
Round fair Granada deepening from afar	F
O'er that green Vega rose the din of war	F
At morn or eve no more the sunbeams shone	N
O'er a calm scene in pastoral beauty lone	N
On helm and corslet tremulous they glanced	O
On shield and spear in quivering lustre danced	O
Far as the sight by clear Xenil could rove	P
Tents rose around and banners glanced above	Q
And steeds in gorgeous trappings armour bright	M
With gold reflecting every tint of light	M
And many a floating plume and blazoned shield	R
Diffused romantic splendour o'er the field	R
	-
There swell those sounds that bid the life blood start	S
Swift to the mantling cheek and beating heart	S
The clang of echoing steel the charger's neigh	Q
The measured tread of hosts in war's array	F
And oh that music whose exulting breath	T
Speaks but of glory on the road of death	T
In whose wild voice there dwells inspiring power	F
To wake the stormy joy of danger's hour	F
To nerve the arm the spirit to sustain	A
Rouse from despondence and support in pain	A
And 'midst the deepening tumults of the strife	Q
Teach every pulse to thrill with more than life	Q
	-
High o'er the camp in many a broidered fold	U
Floats to the wind a standard rich with gold	U
There imaged on the cross	V
His	W
form appears	X
Who drank for man the bitter cup of tears	Y
	-
His	W
form whose word recalled the spirit fled	G
Now borne by hosts to guide them o'er the dead	G
O'er yon fair walls to plant the cross on high	Q
Spain hath sent forth her flower of chivalry	F
Fired with that ardour which in days of yore	F
To Syrian plains the bold crusaders bore	F
Elate with lofty hope with martial zeal	Z
They come the gallant children of Castile	Z
The proud the calmly dignified and there	F
Ebro's dark sons with haughty mien repair	F
And those who guide the fiery steed of war	F
From yon rich province of the western star	F
	-
But thou conspicuous 'midst the glitt'ring scene	A2
Stern grandeur stamped upon thy princely mien	A2
Known by the foreign garb the silvery vest	B2
The snow white charger and the azure crest	B2
Young Aben Zurrah 'midst that host of foes	E
Why shines	C2
thy	Q
helm thy Moorish lance Disclose	E
Why rise the tents where dwell thy kindred train	A
O son of Afric 'midst the sons of Spain	A
Hast thou with these thy nation's fall conspired	D2
Apostate chief by hope of vengeance fired	D2
How art thou changed Still first in every fight	M
Hamet the Moor Castile's devoted knight	M
There dwells a fiery lustre in thine eye	Q
But not the light that shone in days gone by	Q
There is wild ardour in thy look and tone	N
But not the soul's expression once thine own	N
Nor aught like peace within Yet who shall say	F
What secret thoughts thine inmost heart may sway	F
No eye but Heaven's may pierce that curtained breast	B2
Whose joys and griefs alike are unexpressed	B2
	-
There hath been combat on the tented plain	A
The Vega's turf is red with many a stain	A
And rent and trampled banner crest and shield	B2
Tell of a fierce and well contested field	B2
But all is peaceful now the west is bright	B2
With the rich splendour of departing light	B2
Mulhacen's peak half lost amidst the sky	Q
Glows like a purple evening cloud on high	Q
And tints that mock the pencil's art o'erspread	B2
The eternal snow that crowns Veleta's head	B2
While the warm sunset o'er the landscape throws	E
A solemn beauty and a deep repose	E
Closed are the toils and tumults of the day	B2
And Hamet wanders from the camp away	B2
In silent musings wrapt the slaughtered brave	Q
Lie thickly strewn by Darro's rippling wave	Q
Soft fall the dews but other drops have dyed	B2
The scented shrubs that fringe the river side	B2
Beneath whose shade as ebbing life retired	B2
The wounded sought a shelter and expired	B2
Lonely and lost in thoughts of other days	I
By the bright windings of the stream he strays	I
Till more remote from battle's ravaged scene	A2
All is repose and solitude serene	A2
There 'neath an olive's ancient shade reclined	B2
Whose rustling foliage waves in evening's wind	B2
The harassed warrior yielding to the power	F
The mild sweet influence of the tranquil hour	F
Feels by degrees a long forgotten calm	E2
Shed o'er his troubled soul unwonted balm	E2
His wrongs his woes his dark and dubious lot	B2
The past the future are awhile forgot	B2
And Hope scarce owned yet stealing o'er his breast	B2
Half dares to whisper 'Thou shalt yet be blest '	-
	-
Such his vague musings but a plaintive sound	B2
Breaks on the deep and solemn stillness round	B2
A low half stifled moan that seems to rise	F2
From life and death's contending agonies	G2
He turns Who shares with him that lonely shade	B2
A youthful warrior on his deathbed laid	B2
All rent and stained his broidered Moorish vest	B2
The corslet shattered on his bleeding breast	B2
In his cold hand the broken falchion strained	B2
With life's last force convulsively retained	B2
His plumage soiled with dust with crimson dyed	B2
And the red lance in fragments by his side	B2
He lies forsaken pillowed on his shield	B2
His helmet raised his lineaments revealed	B2
Pale is that quivering lip and vanished now	H2
The light once throned on that commanding brow	H2
And o'er that fading eye still upward cast	B2
The shades of death are gathering dark and fast	B2
Yet as yon rising moon her light serene	A2
Sheds the pale olive's waving boughs between	A2
Too well can Hamet's conscious heart retrace	I2
Though changed thus fearfully that pallid face	I2
Whose every feature to his soul conveys	I
Some bitter thought of long departed days	I
	-
'Oh is it thus ' he cries 'we meet at last	B2
Friend of my soul in years for ever past	B2
Hath fate but led me hither to behold	B2
The last dread struggle ere that heart is cold	B2
Receive thy latest agonising breath	T
And with vain pity soothe the pangs of death	T
Yet let me bear thee hence while life remains	J2
E'en though thus feebly circling through thy veins	J2
Some healing balm thy sense may still revive	Q
Hope is not lost and Osmyn yet may live	Q
And blest were he whose timely care should save	Q
A heart so noble e'en from glory's grave '	-
	-
Roused by those accents from his lowly bed	B2
The dying warrior faintly lifts his head	B2
O'er Hamet's mien with vague uncertain gaze	I
His doubtful glance awhile bewildered strays	I
Till by degrees a smile of proud disdain	A
Lights up those features late convulsed with pain	A
A quivering radiance flashes from his eye	Q
That seems too pure too full of soul to die	Q
And the mind's grandeur in its parting hour	F
Looks from that brow with more than wonted power	F
	-
'Away ' he cries in accents of command	B2
And proudly waves his cold and trembling hand	B2
'Apostate hence my soul shall soon be free	F
E'en now it soars disdaining aid from thee	F
'Tis not for thee to close the fading eyes	F2
Of him who faithful to his country dies	F2
Not for	F
thy	Q
hand to raise the drooping head	B2
Of him who sinks to rest on glory's bed	B2

Felicia Dorothea Hemans

The Abencerrage : Canto Ii. Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis

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