Bellerophon Poem Rhyme Scheme

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I	A
	-
Maimed beggared grey seeking an alms with nod	B
Of palsy doing task of thanks for bread	C
Upon the stature of a God	B
He whom the Gods have struck bends low his head	C
	-
II	A
	-
Weak words he has that slip the nerveless tongue	D
Deformed like his great frame a broken arc	E
Once radiant as the javelin flung	D
Right at the centre breastplate of his mark	E
	-
III	A
	-
Oft pausing on his white eyed inward look	F
Some undermountain narrative he tells	G
As gapped by Lykian heat the brook	F
Cut from the source that in the upland swells	G
	-
IV	-
	-
The cottagers who dole him fruit and crust	H
With patient inattention hear him prate	H
And comes the snow and comes the dust	H
Comes the old wanderer more bent of late	H
	-
V	-
	-
A crazy beggar grateful for a meal	I
Has ever of himself a world to say	J
For them he is an ancient wheel	I
Spinning a knotted thread the livelong day	J
	-
VI	-
	-
He cannot nor do they the tale connect	H
For never singer in the land had been	K
Who him for theme did not reject	H
Spurned of the hoof that sprang the Hippocrene	K
	-
VII	-
	-
Albeit a theme of flame to bring them straight	H
The snorting white winged brother of the wave	-
They hear him as a thing by fate	H
Cursed in unholy babble to his grave	-
	-
VIII	-
	-
As men that spied the wings that heard the snort	H
Their sires have told and of a martial prince	L
Bestriding him and old report	H
Speaks of a monster slain by one long since	L
	-
IX	L
	-
There is that story of the golden bit	H
By Goddess given to tame the lightning steed	H
A mortal who could mount and sit	H
Flying and up Olympus midway speed	H
	-
X	L
	-
He rose like the loosed fountain's utmost leap	M
He played the star at span of heaven right o'er	N
Men's heads they saw the snowy steep	M
Saw the winged shoulders him they saw not more	O
	-
XI	L
	-
He fell and says the shattered man I fell	P
And sweeps an arm the height an eagle wins	L
And in his breast a mouthless well	P
Heaves the worn patches of his coat of skins	L
	-
XII	L
	-
Lo this is he in whom the surgent springs	L
Of recollections richer than our skies	L
To feed the flow of tuneful strings	L
Show but a pool of scum for shooting flies	L

George Meredith

Bellerophon Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis

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