Before Her Portrait In Youth Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis
Rhyme Scheme: AAABBCDEEDCDFDGHHIJI HKKJLJLMMNNNOOOODDPP DMQLLRMHHOOOOOAs lovers banished from their lady's face | A |
And hopeless of her grace | A |
Fashion a ghostly sweetness in its place | A |
Fondly adore | B |
Some stealth won cast attire she wore | B |
A kerchief or a glove | C |
And at the lover's beck | D |
Into the glove there fleets the hand | E |
Or at impetuous command | E |
Up from the kerchief floats the virgin neck | D |
So I in very lowlihead of love | C |
Too shyly reverencing | D |
To let one thought's light footfall smooth | F |
Tread near the living consecrated thing | D |
Treasure me thy cast youth | G |
This outworn vesture tenantless of thee | H |
Hath yet my knee | H |
For that with show and semblance fair | I |
Of the past Her | J |
Who once the beautiful discarded raiment bare | I |
It cheateth me | H |
As gale to gale drifts breath | K |
Of blossoms' death | K |
So dropping down the years from hour to hour | J |
This dead youth's scent is wafted me to day | L |
I sit and from the fragrance dream the flower | J |
So then she looked I say | L |
And so her front sunk down | M |
Heavy beneath the poet's iron crown | M |
On her mouth museful sweet | N |
Even as the twin lips meet | N |
Did thought and sadness greet | N |
Sighs | O |
In those mournful eyes | O |
So put on visibilities | O |
As viewless ether turns in deep on deep to dyes | O |
Thus long ago | D |
She kept her meditative paces slow | D |
Through maiden meads with waved shadow and gleam | P |
Of locks half lifted on the winds of dream | P |
Till love up caught her to his chariot's glow | D |
Yet voluntary happier Proserpine | M |
This drooping flower of youth thou lettest fall | Q |
I faring in the cockshut light astray | L |
Find on my 'lated way | L |
And stoop and gather for memorial | R |
And lay it on my bosom and make it mine | M |
To this the all of love the stars allow me | H |
I dedicate and vow me | H |
I reach back through the days | O |
A trothed hand to the dead the last trump shall not raise | O |
The water wraith that cries | O |
From those eternal sorrows of thy pictured eyes | O |
Entwines and draws me down their soundless intricacies | O |
Francis Thompson
(1)
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