Scenes Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis
Rhyme Scheme: ABCCDDEEFG HHIIJJKKLLMMNN IIOOOOPPQQRRSSMMTU OOVVOOJJOOVVWWOOXXYY BBOOHHZA2OOXXB2B2OOC 2C2UUJUOOUUD2D2OBUU UUE2E2UUXXJJF2F2OOG2 G2UUD2D2OOHHXXH2H2OO OOD2D2I2I2| Observe ye not yon high cliff's brow | A |
| Up which a wanderer clambers slow | B |
| 'T is by a hoary ruin crown'd | C |
| Which rocks when shrill winds whistle round | C |
| That is an ancient knightly hold | D |
| Alas it droops deserted cold | D |
| And sad and cheerless seems to gaze | E |
| Back back to yon heroic days | E |
| When youthful Kemps completely arm'd | F |
| And lovely maids around it swarm'd | G |
| - | |
| You in the tower a hole may see | H |
| A window there has ceas'd to be | H |
| From that once lean'd a damsel bright | I |
| In evening's red and fading light | I |
| And star'd intently down the way | J |
| Up which should come her lover gay | J |
| But time it flies on rapid wing | K |
| Far off a church is towering | K |
| Within it stand two marble stones | L |
| That rest above the lovers' bones | L |
| But see the wanderer with pain | M |
| Has reach'd the pile he wish'd to gain | M |
| Whilst Sol behind the ruin'd walls | N |
| Down into sacred nature falls | N |
| - | |
| See there two hostile nobles fight | I |
| With tiger rage and giant might | I |
| There's seen no smoke there's heard no shot | O |
| For guns and powder yet were not | O |
| 'T was custom then when foemen warr'd | O |
| To win or lose with spear and sword | O |
| A wild heroic song they yell | P |
| And each the other seeks to fell | P |
| Oft oft her ownself to destroy | Q |
| Her own hand nature does employ | Q |
| There casts the hill up fire flakes | R |
| And Earth's gigantic body quakes | R |
| There lightnings through the high blue flash | S |
| And ocean's billows wildly dash | S |
| There men 'gainst men their muscles strain | M |
| And deal out death and wounds and pain | M |
| O Nature to thyself show less | T |
| Of hate and more of tenderness | U |
| - | |
| How dusky is the air around | O |
| We are no more above the ground | O |
| But down we wend within the hill | V |
| Whose springs our ears with hissings fill | V |
| See there how rich the ruddy gold | O |
| Winds snakeways 'midst the clammy mould | O |
| And hard green stone By torches' ray | J |
| The harvest there men mow away | J |
| But see ye not yon gath'ring cloud | O |
| Which 'gainst them cometh paley proud | O |
| That holds the spirit of the hill | V |
| Who brings death in its hand so chill | V |
| If down they do not quickly fall | W |
| Most certainly 't will slay them all | W |
| For sorely wrathful is its mood | O |
| Because they break its solitude | O |
| Because its treasure off they bear | X |
| And fling light o'er its gloomy lair | X |
| 'T is white and Kobbold is the name | Y |
| Which it from oldest days does claim | Y |
| - | |
| Now back at once into time we go | B |
| For many a hundred years I trow | B |
| A gothic chamber salutes your sight | O |
| A taper gleams feebly through the night | O |
| A ghostly man by the board you see | H |
| With his hand to his temples muses he | H |
| Parchments with age discolour'd and dun | Z |
| Ancient shields all written upon | A2 |
| Tree bark bearing ciphers half defac'd | O |
| Stones with Runes and characters grac'd | O |
| Things of more worth than ye are aware | X |
| On the mighty table are pil'd up there | X |
| He gazes now in exstatic trance | B2 |
| Through the casement out into nature's expanse | B2 |
| Whene'er we sit at the lone midnight | O |
| And stare out into the dubious light | O |
| Whilst the pallid moon is peering o'er | C2 |
| Ruin'd cloister and crumbling tower | C2 |
| Feelings so wondrous strange come o'er us | U |
| The past and the future arise before us | U |
| The present fadeth unmark'd away | J |
| In the garb of insignificancy | U |
| He gazes up into nature's height | O |
| The noble man with his eye so bright | O |
| He gazes up to the starry skies | U |
| Whither sooner or later we hope to rise | U |
| And now he takes in haste the pen | D2 |
| And the spirit of Oldom flows from it amain | D2 |
| The scatter'd Goth songs he changes unto | O |
| An Epic which maketh each bosom to glow | B |
| Thanks to the old Monk toiling thus | U |
| They call him Saxo Grammaticus | U |
| - | |
| An open field before you lies | U |
| A wind burst o'er its bosom sighs | U |
| Now all is still all seems asleep | E2 |
| 'Midst of the field there stands a heap | E2 |
| Upon the heap stand Runic stones | U |
| Thereunder rest gigantic bones | U |
| From Arild's time that heap stands there | X |
| But now 't is till'd with utmost care | X |
| In order that its owner may | J |
| Thereoff reap golden corn one day | J |
| Oft has he tried the niggard soul | F2 |
| The mighty stones away to roll | F2 |
| As useless burdens of his ground | O |
| But they for that too big were found | O |
| See see the moon through cloud and rack | G2 |
| Looks down upon the letters black | G2 |
| And when the ghost its form uprears | U |
| He shines upon its bursting tears | U |
| For oh the moon's an ancient man | D2 |
| Describe him mortal tongue ne'er can | D2 |
| He shines alike serene and bright | O |
| At midmost hour of witching night | O |
| Upon the spot of love and glee | H |
| And on the gloomy gallows tree | H |
| Upon each Rune behold him stare | X |
| While off he hastes through fields of air | X |
| He understands those signs I'll gage | H2 |
| Whose meaning lies in sunken age | H2 |
| And if he were in speaking state | O |
| No doubt the old man could relate | O |
| Strange things that have on earth occurr'd | O |
| Of which fame ne'er has said a word | O |
| But since with look with look alone | D2 |
| He cannot those events make known | D2 |
| He waketh from his height sublime | I2 |
| Mere longing for the dark gone time | I2 |
George Borrow
(1)
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