Ode On Venice Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis

Rhyme Scheme: ABCBCC DDEDFFDGDHIGGHJGKKKL MNMNOOPQPQQRSTTQQRSU VVWWWWXXYY AZA2ZB2A2C2C2 WWD2E2E2F2WWF2G2G2WW EEH2I2J2K2J2K2L2L2SS L2SL2SWWWL2YL2M2WW AWL2WL2L2N2L2N2WWO2L 2L2O2L2L2P2P2D2WD2D2 D2WQ2R2S2R2S2ES2T2EJ JL2L2L2JL2WWEL2U2U2L 2E2E2DWWDWWJ2DL2L2W

IA
Oh Venice Venice when thy marble wallsB
Are level with the waters there shall beC
A cry of nations o'er thy sunken hallsB
A loud lament along the sweeping seaC
If I a northern wanderer weep for theeC
-
What should thy sons do anything but weepD
And yet they only murmur in their sleepD
In contrast with their fathers as the slimeE
The dull green ooze of the receding deepD
Is with the dashing of the spring tide foamF
That drives the sailor shipless to his homeF
Are they to those that were and thus they creepD
Crouching and crab like through their sapping streetsG
Oh Agony that centuries should reapD
No mellower harvest Thirteen hundred yearsH
Of wealth and glory turn'd to dust and tearsI
And every monument the stranger meetsG
Church palace pillar as a mourner greetsG
And even the Lion all subdued appearsH
And the harsh sound of the barbarianJ
With dull and daily dissonance repeatsG
The echo of thy tyrant's voice alongK
The soft waves once all musical to songK
That heaved beneath the moonlight with the throngK
Of gondolas and to the busy humL
Of cheerful creatures whose most sinful deedsM
Were but the overbeating of the heartN
And flow of too much happiness which needsM
The aid of age to turn its course apartN
From the luxuriant and voluptuous floodO
Of sweet sensations battling with the bloodO
But these are better than the gloomy errorsP
The weeds of nations in their last decayQ
When Vice walks forth with her unsoften'd terrorsP
And Mirth is madness and but smiles to slayQ
And Hope is nothing but a false delayQ
The sick man's lightning half an hour ere deathR
When Faintness the last mortal birth of PainS
And apathy of limb the dull beginningT
Of the cold staggering race which Death is winningT
Steals vein by vein and pulse by pulse awayQ
Yet so relieving the o'er tortured clayQ
To him appears renewal of his breathR
And freedom the mere numbness of his chainS
And then he talks of life and how againU
He feels his spirit soaring albeit weakV
And of the fresher air which he would seekV
And as he whispers knows not that he gaspsW
That his thin finger feels not what it claspsW
And so the film comes o'er him and the dizzyW
Chamber swims round and round and shadows busyW
At which he vainly catches flit and gleamX
Till the last rattle chokes the strangled screamX
And all is ice and blackness and the earthY
That which it was the moment ere our birthY
-
IIA
There is no hope for nations Search the pageZ
Of many thousand years the daily sceneA2
The flow and ebb of each recurring ageZ
The everlasting to be which hath beenB2
Hath taught us nought or little still we leanA2
On things that rot beneath our weight and wearC2
Our strength away in wrestling with the airC2
-
For 'tis our nature strikes us down the beastsW
Slaughter 'd in hourly hecatombs for feastsW
Are of as high an order they must goD2
Even where their driver goads them though to slaughterE2
Ye men who pour your blood for kings as waterE2
What have they given your children in returnF2
A heritage of servitude and woesW
A blindfold bondage where your hire is blowsW
What do not yet the red hot ploughshares burnF2
O'er which you stumble in a false ordealG2
And deem this proof of loyalty the realG2
Kissing the hand that guides you to your scarsW
And glorying as you tread the glowing barsW
All that your sires have left you all that TimeE
Bequeaths of free and History of sublimeE
Spring from a different theme Ye see and readH2
Admire and sigh and then succumb and bleedI2
Save the few spirits who despite of allJ2
And worse than all the sudden crimes engender'dK2
By the down thundering of the prison wallJ2
And thirst to swallow the sweet waters tender'dK2
Gushing from Freedom's fountains when the crowdL2
Madden'd with centuries of drought are loudL2
And trample on each other to obtainS
The cup which brings oblivion of a chainS
Heavy and sore in which long yoked they plough'dL2
The sand or if there sprung the yellow grainS
'Twos not for them their necks were too much how'dL2
And their dead palates chew'd the cud of painS
Yes the few spirits who despite of deedsW
Which they abhor confound not with the causeW
Those momentary starts from Nature's lawsW
Which like the pestilence and earthquake smiteL2
But for a term then pass and leave the earthY
With all her seasons to repair the blightL2
With a few summers and again put forthM2
Cities and generations fair when freeW
For Tyranny there blooms no bud for theeW
-
IIIA
Glory and Empire once upon these towersW
With Freedom godlike Triad how ye sateL2
The league of mightiest nations in those hoursW
When Venice was an envy might abateL2
But did not quench her spirit in her fateL2
All were enwrapp'd the feasted monarchs knewN2
And loved their hostess nor could learn to hateL2
Although they humbled with the kingly fewN2
The many felt for from all days and climesW
She was the voyager's worship even her crimesW
Were of the softer order born of LoveO2
She drank no blood nor fatten'd on the deadL2
But gladden'd where her harmless conquests spreadL2
For these restored the Cross that from aboveO2
Hallow'd her sheltering banners which incessantL2
Flew between earth and the unholy CrescentL2
Which if it waned and dwindled Earth may thankP2
The city it has clothed in chains which clankP2
Now creaking in the ears of those who oweD2
The name of Freedom to her glorious strugglesW
Yet she but shares with them a common woeD2
And call'd the 'kingdom' of a conquering foeD2
But knows what all and most of all we knowD2
With what set gilded terms a tyrant jugglesW
The name of Commonwealth is past and goneQ2
O'er the three fractions of the groaning globeR2
Venice is crush'd and Holland deigns to ownS2
A sceptre and endures the purple robeR2
If the free Switzer yet bestrides aloneS2
His chainless mountains 'tis but for a timeE
For tyranny of late is cunning grownS2
And in its own good season tramples downT2
The sparkles of our ashes One great climeE
Whose vigorous offspring by dividing oceanJ
Are kept apart and nursed in the devotionJ
Of Freedom which their fathers fought for andL2
Bequeath'd a heritage of heart and handL2
And proud distinction from each other landL2
Whose sons must bow them at a monarch's motionJ
As if his senseless sceptre were a wandL2
Full of the magic of exploded scienceW
Still one great clime in full and free de fianceW
Yet rears her crest unconquer'd and sublimeE
Above the far Atlantic She has taughtL2
Her Esau brethren that the haughty flagU2
The floating fence of Albion's feebler cragU2
May strike to those whose red right hands have boughtL2
Rights cheaply earn'd with blood Stilt still for everE2
Better though each man's life blood were a riverE2
That it should flow and overflow than creepD
Through thousand lazy channels in our veinsW
Damm'd like the dull canal with locks and chainsW
And moving as a sick man in his sleepD
Three paces and then faltering better beW
Where the extinguish'd Spartans still are freeW
In their proud charnel of ThermopylaeJ2
Than stagnate in our marsh or o'er the deepD
Fly and one current to the ocean addL2
One spirit to the souls our fathers hadL2
One freeman more America to theeW

George Gordon Byron



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