The Hut By The Black Swamp Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis

Rhyme Scheme: ABABB CDCDD EFGFF HIHII JKJKK LMNOM PQPQQ QQQQQ QRQRR STSTT UVUVV WXWXX LYLYY ZQZQQ

Now comes the fierce north easter boundA
About with clouds and racks of rainB
And dry dead leaves go whirling roundA
In rings of dust and sigh like painB
Across the plainB
-
Now twilight with a shadowy handC
Of wild dominionship doth keepD
Strong hold of hollow straits of landC
And watery sounds are loud and deepD
By gap and steepD
-
Keen fitful gusts that fly beforeE
The wings of storm when day hath shutF
Its eyes on mountains flaw by flawG
Fleet down by whistling box tree buttF
Against the hutF
-
And ringed and girt with lurid pompH
Far eastern cliffs start up and takeI
Thick steaming vapours from a swampH
That lieth like a great blind lakeI
Of face opaqueI
-
The moss that like a tender griefJ
About an English ruin clingsK
What time the wan autumnal leafJ
Faints after many wanderingsK
On windy wingsK
-
That gracious growth whose quiet greenL
Is as a love in days austereM
Was never seen hath never beenN
On slab or roof deserted hereO
For many a yearM
-
Nor comes the bird whose speech is songP
Whose songs are silvery syllablesQ
That unto glimmering woods belongP
And deep meandering mountain dellsQ
By yellow wellsQ
-
But rather here the wild dog haltsQ
And lifts the paw and looks and howlsQ
And here in ruined forest vaultsQ
Abide dim dark death featured owlsQ
Like monks in cowlsQ
-
Across this hut the nettle runsQ
And livid adders make their lairR
In corners dank from lack of sunsQ
And out of foetid furrows stareR
The growths that scareR
-
Here Summer's grasp of fire is laidS
On bark and slabs that rot and breedT
Squat ugly things of deadly shadeS
The scorpion and the spiteful seedT
Of centipedeT
-
Unhallowed thunders harsh and dryU
And flaming noontides mute with heatV
Beneath the breathless brazen skyU
Upon these rifted rafters beatV
With torrid feetV
-
And night by night the fitful galeW
Doth carry past the bittern's boomX
The dingo's yell the plover's wailW
While lumbering shadows start and loomX
And hiss through gloomX
-
No sign of grace no hope of greenL
Cool blossomed seasons marks the spotY
But chained to iron doom I weenL
'Tis left like skeleton to rotY
Where ruth is notY
-
For on this hut hath murder writZ
With bloody fingers hellish thingsQ
And God will never visit itZ
With flower or leaf of sweet faced SpringsQ
Or gentle wingsQ

Henry Kendall



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