The Flower Of The Ruins Poem Rhyme Scheme

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Take thy lute and sing	A
By the ruined castle walls	B
Where the torrent foam falls	B
And long weeds wave	C
Take thy lute and sing	A
O'er the grey ancestral grave	C
Daughter of a King	A
Tune thy string	A
	-
Sing of happy hours	D
In the roar of rushing time	E
Till all the echoes chime	E
To the days gone by	F
Sing of passing hours	D
To the ever present sky	F
Weep and let the showers	D
Wake thy flowers	D
	-
Sing of glories gone	G
No more the blazoned fold	H
From the banner is unrolled	H
The gold sun is set	H
Sing his glory gone	G
For thy voice may charm him yet	H
Daughter of the dawn	G
He is gone	G
	-
Pour forth all thy grief	I
Passionately sweep the chords	J
Wed them quivering to thy words	K
Wild words of wail	L
Shed thy withered grief	I
But hold not Autumn to thy bale	L
The eddy of the leaf	I
Must be brief	I
	-
Sing up to the night	H
Hard it is for streaming tears	M
To read the calmness of the spheres	N
Coldly they shine	O
Sing up to their light	H
They have views thou may'st divine	O
Gain prophetic sight	H
From their light	H
	-
On the windy hills	P
Lo the little harebell leans	Q
On the spire grass that it queens	Q
With bonnet blue	R
Trusting love instils	Q
Love and subject reverence true	R
Learn what love instils	Q
On the hills	Q
	-
By the bare wayside	H
Placid snowdrops hang their cheeks	Q
Softly touch'd with pale green streaks	Q
Soon soon to die	H
On the clothed hedgeside	H
Bands of rosy beauties vie	H
In their prophesied	H
Summer pride	H
	-
From the snowdrop learn	S
Not in her pale life lives she	T
But in her blushing prophecy	T
Thus be thy hopes	Q
Living but to yearn	S
Upwards to the hidden scopes	Q
Even within the urn	S
Let them burn	S
	-
Heroes of thy race	Q
Warriors with golden crowns	Q
Ghostly shapes with marbled frowns	Q
Stare thee to stone	U
Matrons of thy race	Q
Pass before thee making moan	U
Full of solemn grace	Q
Is their pace	Q
	-
Piteous their despair	V
Piteous their looks forlorn	W
Terrible their ghostly scorn	W
Still hold thou fast	H
Heed not their despair	V
Thou art thy future not thy past	H
Let them glance and glare	V
Thro' the air	V
	-
Thou the ruin's bud	H
Be not that moist rich smelling weed	H
With its arras sembled brede	H
And ruin haunting stalk	X
Thou the ruin's bud	H
Be still the rose that lights the walk	X
Mix thy fragrant blood	H
With the flood	H

George Meredith

The Flower Of The Ruins Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis

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