The Summer Rain Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis
Rhyme Scheme: ABCB DEDE FGFG HIHI JDJD AKAL MNMN OPOP QFQR SRSR| My books I'd fain cast off I cannot read | A |
| 'Twixt every page my thoughts go stray at large | B |
| Down in the meadow where is richer feed | C |
| And will not mind to hit their proper targe | B |
| - | |
| Plutarch was good and so was Homer too | D |
| Our Shakespeare's life were rich to live again | E |
| What Plutarch read that was not good nor true | D |
| Nor Shakespeare's books unless his books were men | E |
| - | |
| Here while I lie beneath this walnut bough | F |
| What care I for the Greeks or for Troy town | G |
| If juster battles are enacted now | F |
| Between the ants upon this hummock's crown | G |
| - | |
| Bid Homer wait till I the issue learn | H |
| If red or black the gods will favor most | I |
| Or yonder Ajax will the phalanx turn | H |
| Struggling to heave some rock against the host | I |
| - | |
| Tell Shakespeare to attend some leisure hour | J |
| For now I've business with this drop of dew | D |
| And see you not the clouds prepare a shower | J |
| I'll meet him shortly when the sky is blue | D |
| - | |
| This bed of herd's grass and wild oats was spread | A |
| Last year with nicer skill than monarchs use | K |
| A clover tuft is pillow for my head | A |
| And violets quite overtop my shoes | L |
| - | |
| And now the cordial clouds have shut all in | M |
| And gently swells the wind to say all's well | N |
| The scattered drops are falling fast and thin | M |
| Some in the pool some in the flower bell | N |
| - | |
| I am well drenched upon my bed of oats | O |
| But see that globe come rolling down its stem | P |
| Now like a lonely planet there it floats | O |
| And now it sinks into my garment's hem | P |
| - | |
| Drip drip the trees for all the country round | Q |
| And richness rare distills from every bough | F |
| The wind alone it is makes every sound | Q |
| Shaking down crystals on the leaves below | R |
| - | |
| For shame the sun will never show himself | S |
| Who could not with his beams e'er melt me so | R |
| My dripping locks they would become an elf | S |
| Who in a beaded coat does gayly go | R |
Henry David Thoreau
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