Ode On Venice Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis
Rhyme Scheme: ABCBCC DDEDFFDGDHIGGHJGKKKL MNMNOOPQPQQRSTTQQRSU VVWWWWXXYY AZA2ZB2A2C2C2 WWD2E2E2F2WWF2G2G2WW EEH2I2J2K2J2K2L2L2SS L2SL2SWWWL2YL2M2WW AWL2WL2L2N2L2N2WWO2L 2L2O2L2L2P2P2D2WD2D2 D2WQ2R2S2R2S2ES2T2EJ JL2L2L2JL2WWEL2U2U2L 2E2E2DWWDWWJ2DL2L2W| I | A |
| Oh Venice Venice when thy marble walls | B |
| Are level with the waters there shall be | C |
| A cry of nations o'er thy sunken halls | B |
| A loud lament along the sweeping sea | C |
| If I a northern wanderer weep for thee | C |
| - | |
| What should thy sons do anything but weep | D |
| And yet they only murmur in their sleep | D |
| In contrast with their fathers as the slime | E |
| The dull green ooze of the receding deep | D |
| Is with the dashing of the spring tide foam | F |
| That drives the sailor shipless to his home | F |
| Are they to those that were and thus they creep | D |
| Crouching and crab like through their sapping streets | G |
| Oh Agony that centuries should reap | D |
| No mellower harvest Thirteen hundred years | H |
| Of wealth and glory turn'd to dust and tears | I |
| And every monument the stranger meets | G |
| Church palace pillar as a mourner greets | G |
| And even the Lion all subdued appears | H |
| And the harsh sound of the barbarian | J |
| With dull and daily dissonance repeats | G |
| The echo of thy tyrant's voice along | K |
| The soft waves once all musical to song | K |
| That heaved beneath the moonlight with the throng | K |
| Of gondolas and to the busy hum | L |
| Of cheerful creatures whose most sinful deeds | M |
| Were but the overbeating of the heart | N |
| And flow of too much happiness which needs | M |
| The aid of age to turn its course apart | N |
| From the luxuriant and voluptuous flood | O |
| Of sweet sensations battling with the blood | O |
| But these are better than the gloomy errors | P |
| The weeds of nations in their last decay | Q |
| When Vice walks forth with her unsoften'd terrors | P |
| And Mirth is madness and but smiles to slay | Q |
| And Hope is nothing but a false delay | Q |
| The sick man's lightning half an hour ere death | R |
| When Faintness the last mortal birth of Pain | S |
| And apathy of limb the dull beginning | T |
| Of the cold staggering race which Death is winning | T |
| Steals vein by vein and pulse by pulse away | Q |
| Yet so relieving the o'er tortured clay | Q |
| To him appears renewal of his breath | R |
| And freedom the mere numbness of his chain | S |
| And then he talks of life and how again | U |
| He feels his spirit soaring albeit weak | V |
| And of the fresher air which he would seek | V |
| And as he whispers knows not that he gasps | W |
| That his thin finger feels not what it clasps | W |
| And so the film comes o'er him and the dizzy | W |
| Chamber swims round and round and shadows busy | W |
| At which he vainly catches flit and gleam | X |
| Till the last rattle chokes the strangled scream | X |
| And all is ice and blackness and the earth | Y |
| That which it was the moment ere our birth | Y |
| - | |
| II | A |
| There is no hope for nations Search the page | Z |
| Of many thousand years the daily scene | A2 |
| The flow and ebb of each recurring age | Z |
| The everlasting to be which hath been | B2 |
| Hath taught us nought or little still we lean | A2 |
| On things that rot beneath our weight and wear | C2 |
| Our strength away in wrestling with the air | C2 |
| - | |
| For 'tis our nature strikes us down the beasts | W |
| Slaughter 'd in hourly hecatombs for feasts | W |
| Are of as high an order they must go | D2 |
| Even where their driver goads them though to slaughter | E2 |
| Ye men who pour your blood for kings as water | E2 |
| What have they given your children in return | F2 |
| A heritage of servitude and woes | W |
| A blindfold bondage where your hire is blows | W |
| What do not yet the red hot ploughshares burn | F2 |
| O'er which you stumble in a false ordeal | G2 |
| And deem this proof of loyalty the real | G2 |
| Kissing the hand that guides you to your scars | W |
| And glorying as you tread the glowing bars | W |
| All that your sires have left you all that Time | E |
| Bequeaths of free and History of sublime | E |
| Spring from a different theme Ye see and read | H2 |
| Admire and sigh and then succumb and bleed | I2 |
| Save the few spirits who despite of all | J2 |
| And worse than all the sudden crimes engender'd | K2 |
| By the down thundering of the prison wall | J2 |
| And thirst to swallow the sweet waters tender'd | K2 |
| Gushing from Freedom's fountains when the crowd | L2 |
| Madden'd with centuries of drought are loud | L2 |
| And trample on each other to obtain | S |
| The cup which brings oblivion of a chain | S |
| Heavy and sore in which long yoked they plough'd | L2 |
| The sand or if there sprung the yellow grain | S |
| 'Twos not for them their necks were too much how'd | L2 |
| And their dead palates chew'd the cud of pain | S |
| Yes the few spirits who despite of deeds | W |
| Which they abhor confound not with the cause | W |
| Those momentary starts from Nature's laws | W |
| Which like the pestilence and earthquake smite | L2 |
| But for a term then pass and leave the earth | Y |
| With all her seasons to repair the blight | L2 |
| With a few summers and again put forth | M2 |
| Cities and generations fair when free | W |
| For Tyranny there blooms no bud for thee | W |
| - | |
| III | A |
| Glory and Empire once upon these towers | W |
| With Freedom godlike Triad how ye sate | L2 |
| The league of mightiest nations in those hours | W |
| When Venice was an envy might abate | L2 |
| But did not quench her spirit in her fate | L2 |
| All were enwrapp'd the feasted monarchs knew | N2 |
| And loved their hostess nor could learn to hate | L2 |
| Although they humbled with the kingly few | N2 |
| The many felt for from all days and climes | W |
| She was the voyager's worship even her crimes | W |
| Were of the softer order born of Love | O2 |
| She drank no blood nor fatten'd on the dead | L2 |
| But gladden'd where her harmless conquests spread | L2 |
| For these restored the Cross that from above | O2 |
| Hallow'd her sheltering banners which incessant | L2 |
| Flew between earth and the unholy Crescent | L2 |
| Which if it waned and dwindled Earth may thank | P2 |
| The city it has clothed in chains which clank | P2 |
| Now creaking in the ears of those who owe | D2 |
| The name of Freedom to her glorious struggles | W |
| Yet she but shares with them a common woe | D2 |
| And call'd the 'kingdom' of a conquering foe | D2 |
| But knows what all and most of all we know | D2 |
| With what set gilded terms a tyrant juggles | W |
| The name of Commonwealth is past and gone | Q2 |
| O'er the three fractions of the groaning globe | R2 |
| Venice is crush'd and Holland deigns to own | S2 |
| A sceptre and endures the purple robe | R2 |
| If the free Switzer yet bestrides alone | S2 |
| His chainless mountains 'tis but for a time | E |
| For tyranny of late is cunning grown | S2 |
| And in its own good season tramples down | T2 |
| The sparkles of our ashes One great clime | E |
| Whose vigorous offspring by dividing ocean | J |
| Are kept apart and nursed in the devotion | J |
| Of Freedom which their fathers fought for and | L2 |
| Bequeath'd a heritage of heart and hand | L2 |
| And proud distinction from each other land | L2 |
| Whose sons must bow them at a monarch's motion | J |
| As if his senseless sceptre were a wand | L2 |
| Full of the magic of exploded science | W |
| Still one great clime in full and free de fiance | W |
| Yet rears her crest unconquer'd and sublime | E |
| Above the far Atlantic She has taught | L2 |
| Her Esau brethren that the haughty flag | U2 |
| The floating fence of Albion's feebler crag | U2 |
| May strike to those whose red right hands have bought | L2 |
| Rights cheaply earn'd with blood Stilt still for ever | E2 |
| Better though each man's life blood were a river | E2 |
| That it should flow and overflow than creep | D |
| Through thousand lazy channels in our veins | W |
| Damm'd like the dull canal with locks and chains | W |
| And moving as a sick man in his sleep | D |
| Three paces and then faltering better be | W |
| Where the extinguish'd Spartans still are free | W |
| In their proud charnel of Thermopylae | J2 |
| Than stagnate in our marsh or o'er the deep | D |
| Fly and one current to the ocean add | L2 |
| One spirit to the souls our fathers had | L2 |
| One freeman more America to thee | W |
George Gordon Byron
(1)
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About Ode On Venice
Ode On Venice is a poem by George Gordon Byron. This page includes the poem text, poet information, related topics, comments, and similar poems.
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