Spring Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis

Rhyme Scheme: AABC DDDD EFDD GGHH IIJJ KKLL DDMM NNOO DDPP JJQQ RRSS TTMM UUVV WWDD DDXX YYZZ DDDD

Spring with that nameless pathos in the airA
Which dwells with all things fairA
Spring with her golden suns and silver rainB
Is with us once againC
-
Out in the lonely woods the jasmine burnsD
Its fragrant lamps and turnsD
Into a royal court with green festoonsD
The banks of dark lagoonsD
-
In the deep heart of every forest treeE
The blood is all agleeF
And there's a look about the leafless bowersD
As if they dreamed of flowersD
-
Yet still on every side we trace the handG
Of Winter in the landG
Save where the maple reddens on the lawnH
Flushed by the season's dawnH
-
Or where like those strange semblances we findI
That age to childhood bindI
The elm puts on as if in Nature's scornJ
The brown of Autumn cornJ
-
As yet the turf is dark although you knowK
That not a span belowK
A thousand germs are groping through the gloomL
And soon will burst their tombL
-
Already here and there on frailest stemsD
Appear some azure gemsD
Small as might deck upon a gala dayM
The forehead of a fayM
-
In gardens you may note amid the dearthN
The crocus breaking earthN
And near the snowdrop's tender white and greenO
The violet in its screenO
-
But many gleams and shadows need must passD
Along the budding grassD
And weeks go by before the enamored SouthP
Shall kiss the rose's mouthP
-
Still there's a sense of blossoms yet unbornJ
In the sweet airs of mornJ
One almost looks to see the very streetQ
Grow purple at his feetQ
-
At times a fragrant breeze comes floating byR
And brings you know not whyR
A feeling as when eager crowds awaitS
Before a palace gateS
-
Some wondrous pageant and you scarce would startT
If from a beech's heartT
A blue eyed Dryad stepping forth should sayM
Behold me I am MayM
-
Ah who would couple thoughts of war and crimeU
With such a bless ed timeU
Who in the west wind's aromatic breathV
Could hear the call of DeathV
-
Yet not more surely shall the Spring awakeW
The voice of wood and brakeW
Than she shall rouse for all her tranquil charmsD
A million men to armsD
-
There shall be deeper hues upon her plainsD
Than all her sunlit rainsD
And every gladdening influence aroundX
Can summon from the groundX
-
Oh standing on this desecrated mouldY
Methinks that I beholdY
Lifting her bloody daisies up to GodZ
Spring kneeling on the sodZ
-
And calling with the voice of all her rillsD
Upon the ancient hillsD
To fall and crush the tyrants and the slavesD
Who turn her meads to gravesD

Henry Timrod



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