Scirocco Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis

Rhyme Scheme: AABBCDCECDC FGHFHCICGCIC JKLKCCCMNMOONFMPQCCM RM CCCPCCPC CCSSTTPPCCUCUCCC

Out of that high pavilionA
Where the sick wind harassed sunA
In the whiteness of the dayB
Ghostly shone and stole awayB
Parch d with the utter thirstC
Of unnumbered Libyan sandsD
Thou cloud gathering spirit burstC
Out of arid AfricaE
To the tideless sea and smoteC
On our pale moon cool d landsD
The hot breath of a lion's throatC
-
And that furnace heated breathF
Blew into my placid dreamsG
The heart of fire from whence it cameH
Haunt of beauty and of deathF
Where the forest breaks in flameH
Of flaunting blossom where the floodC
Of life pulses hot and starkI
Where a wing'd death breeds in mudC
And tumult of tree shadowed streamsG
Black waters desolately hurledC
Through the uttermost lost darkI
Secret places of the worldC
-
There O swift and terribleJ
Being wast thou born and thenceK
Like a demon loosed from hellL
Stripped with rending wings the denseK
Echoing forests till their bowedC
Plumes of trees like tattered cloudC
Were toss'd and torn and cried aloudC
As the wood were rack'd with painM
Thence thou freed'st thy wings and soonN
From the moaning stricken plainM
In whorled eagle soarings roseO
To melt the sun defeating snowsO
Of the Mountains of the MoonN
To dull their glaciers with fierce breathF
To slip the avalanches' reinM
To set the laughing torrents freeP
On the tented desert beneathQ
Where men of thirst must wither and dieC
While the vultures stare in the sun's eyeC
Where slowly sifting sands are strownM
On broken cities whose bleaching bonesR
Whiten in moonlight stone on stoneM
-
Over their pitiful dust thy blastC
Passed in columns of whirling sandC
Leapt the desert and swept the strandC
Of the cool and quiet seaP
Gathering mighty shapes and proudC
Phantoms of monstrous wave born cloudC
And northward drove this panoplyP
Till the sky seemed charging on the landC
-
Yet in that plum d helm the mostC
Of thy hot power was cooled or lostC
So that it came to me at lengthS
Faint and tepid and shorn of strengthS
To shiver an olive grove that heavesT
A myriad moonlight coloured leavesT
And in the stone pine's dome set freeP
A murmur of the middle seaP
A puff of warm air in the nightC
So spent by its impetuous flightC
It scarce invades my pillar'd closesU
To waft their fragrance from the sweetC
Buds of my lemon coloured rosesU
Or strew blown petals at my feetC
To kiss my cheek with a warm sighC
And in the tired darkness dieC

Francis Brett Young



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