Poet Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

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Voices Of The Night : Flowers Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis

Rhyme Scheme: ABAB CDCD EFEF AEAE GDGD GDGD EDED GEGE GHGH GDGD EGEG CICI DEDE EEEE ADAD

Spake full well in language quaint and oldenA
One who dwelleth by the Castle RhineB
When he called the flowers so blue and goldenA
Stars that in the earth's firmament do shineB
-
Stars they are wherein we do read our historyC
As astrologers and seers of eldD
Yet not wrapped about with awful mysteryC
Like the burning stars which they beheldD
-
Wonderous truths and manifold as wonderousE
God has written in those stars aboveF
But not less in the bright flowers under usE
Stands the revelation of his loveF
-
Bright and glorious is that revelationA
Written all over this great world of oursE
Making evident our own creationA
In these stars of earth these golden flowersE
-
And the Poet faithful and far seeingG
Sees alike in stars and flowers a partD
Of the self same universal beingG
Which is throbbing in his brain and heartD
-
Gorgeous flowerets in the sunlight shiningG
Blossoms flaunting the bright of dayD
Tremulous leaves with soft and silver liningG
Buds that open only to decayD
-
Brilliant hopes all woven in gorgeous tissuesE
Flaunting gayly in the golden lightD
Large desires with most uncertain isssuesE
Tender wishes blossoming at nightD
-
These in flowers and men are more than seemingG
Workings are they of the self same powersE
Which the Poet in no idle dreamingG
Seeith in himself and in the flowersE
-
Everywhere about us are they glowingG
Some like stars to tell us Spring is bornH
Others their blue eyes with tears o'erflowingG
Stand like Ruth amid the golden cornH
-
Not alone in Spring's armorial beaingG
And in Summer's green emblazoned fieldD
But in the arms of brave old Autumn's wearingG
In the centre of his brazen shieldD
-
Not alone in meadows and green alleysE
On the mountain top and by the brinkG
Of sequestered pools in woodland valleysE
Where the slaves of nature stoop to drinkG
-
Not alone in her vast dome of gloryC
Not on graves of bird and beast aloneI
But in old cathedrals high and hoaryC
On the tombs of heroes carved in stoneI
-
In the cottage of the rudest peasantD
In ancestral homes whose crumbling towersE
Speaking of the Past unto the PresentD
Tell us of the ancient Games of FlowersE
-
In all places then and in all seasonsE
Flowers expand their light and soul like wingsE
Teaching us by most persuasive reasonsE
How akin they are to human thingsE
-
And with child like credulous affectionA
We behold their tender buds expandD
Emblems of our own great resurrectionA
Emblems of the bright and better landD

Henry Wadsworth Longfellow



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