Oliver Basselin. (birds Of Passage. Flight The First) Poem Rhyme Scheme

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In the Valley of the Vire	A
Still is seen an ancient mill	B
With its gables quaint and queer	A
And beneath the window sill	B
On the stone	C
These words alone	C
'Oliver Basselin lived here '	D
	-
Far above it on the steep	E
Ruined stands the old Chateau	F
Nothing but the donjon keep	E
Left for shelter or for show	F
Its vacant eyes	G
Stare at the skies	G
Stare at the valley green and deep	E
	-
Once a convent old and brown	H
Looked but ah it looks no more	A
From the neighboring hillside down	H
On the rushing and the roar	A
Of the stream	I
Whose sunny gleam	I
Cheers the little Norman town	H
	-
In that darksome mill of stone	C
To the water's dash and din	J
Careless humble and unknown	C
Sang the poet Basselin	C
Songs that fill	B
That ancient mill	B
With a splendor of its own	C
	-
Never feeling of unrest	K
Broke the pleasant dream he dreamed	L
Only made to be his nest	K
All the lovely valley seemed	L
No desire	A
Of soaring higher	A
Stirred or fluttered in his breast	K
	-
True his songs were not divine	C
Were not songs of that high art	M
Which as winds do in the pine	C
Find an answer in each heart	M
But the mirth	N
Of this green earth	N
Laughed and revelled in his line	C
	-
From the alehouse and the inn	C
Opening on the narrow street	O
Came the loud convivial din	C
Singing and applause of feet	O
The laughing lays	P
That in those days	P
Sang the poet Basselin	C
	-
In the castle cased in steel	Q
Knights who fought at Agincourt	R
Watched and waited spur on heel	Q
But the poet sang for sport	R
Songs that rang	S
Another clang	S
Songs that lowlier hearts could feel	Q
	-
In the convent clad in gray	A
Sat the monks in lonely cells	T
Paced the cloisters knelt to pray	A
And the poet heard their bells	T
But his rhymes	U
Found other chimes	U
Nearer to the earth than they	A
	-
Gone are all the barons bold	V
Gone are all the knights and squires	W
Gone the abbot stern and cold	V
And the brotherhood of friars	W
Not a name	X
Remains to fame	X
From those mouldering days of old	V
	-
But the poet's memory here	A
Of the landscape makes a part	M
Like the river swift and clear	A
Flows his song through many a heart	M
Haunting still	B
That ancient mill	B
In the Valley of the Vire	A

Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

Oliver Basselin. (birds Of Passage. Flight The First) Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis

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