The White Bull Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis
Rhyme Scheme: AABBBCCDEDDEFFGGHIIJ KJK LLFFMMNNOOEEPPMMDDQQ RRSTTSPP LLNNUUJJDPTDDVVVVWWX XXPP YYNNSSZZQA2QA2B2B2C2 C2DDD2D2ZZSE2E2SF2F2 G2G2H2H2VVWWPP UUBBCZCZSI2SI2I2I2DJ 2J2DPD DDDDDDDADAZPZZPK2K2D AVAG2PG2 H2H2DDL2PEv'ry dusk eye in Madrid | A |
Flash'd blue 'neath its lid | A |
As the cry and the clamour ran round | B |
The king has been crown'd | B |
And the brow of his bride has been bound | B |
With the crown of a queen | C |
And between | C |
Te Deum and salvo the roar | D |
Of the crowd in the square | E |
Shook tower and bastion and door | D |
And the marble of altar and floor | D |
And high in the air | E |
The wreaths of the incense were driven | F |
To and fro as are riven | F |
The leaves of a lily and cast | G |
By the jubilant shout of the blast | G |
To and fro to and fro | H |
And they fell in the chancel and nave | I |
As the lily falls back on the wave | I |
And trembl'd and faded and died | J |
As the white petals tremble and shiver | K |
And fade in the tide | J |
Of the jewel dark breast of the river | K |
- | |
Ho gossips the wonderful news | L |
I have worn two holes in my shoes | L |
With the race I have run | F |
And like an old grape in the sun | F |
I am shrivell'd with drought for I ran | M |
Like an antelope rather than man | M |
Our King is a king of Spaniards indeed | N |
And he loves to see the bold bull bleed | N |
And the Queen is a queen by the saints right fit | O |
In half of the Spanish throne to sit | O |
Tho' blue her eyes and wanly fair | E |
Her cheek and her neck and her flaxen hair | E |
For free and full | P |
She can laugh as she watches the staggering bull | P |
And tap on the jewels of her fan | M |
While horse and man | M |
Reel on in a ruby rain of gore | D |
And pout her lip at the Toreador | D |
And fling a jest | Q |
If he leave the fight with unsullied vest | Q |
No crack on his skin | R |
Where the bull's sharp horn has entered in | R |
Caramba gossips I would not be king | S |
And rule and reign | T |
Over wine shop and palace and all broad Spain | T |
If under my wing | S |
I had not a mate who could joy to the full | P |
In the gallant death of a man or a bull | P |
- | |
What is the news | L |
That has worn two holes in my Saints' day shoes | L |
And parch'd me so with heat and speed | N |
That a skin of wine down my throat must bleed | N |
Why this there's a handsome Hidalgo at Court | U |
And half in sport | U |
He scour'd the country far and wide | J |
For a gift to pleasure the royal bride | J |
And on the broad plains of the Guadalquiver | D |
He gave a pull | P |
To the jewell'd bridle and silken rein | T |
That made his stout horse rear and shiver | D |
For in the dusk reeds of the silver river | D |
Like the angry stars that redly fly | V |
From the dark blue peaks of the midnight sky | V |
And smouldering lie | V |
Blood red till they die | V |
In the blistering ground the eyes he saw | W |
Of a bull without blemish or speck or flaw | W |
And a hide as white as a dead saint's soul | X |
With many a clinking of red pistole | X |
And draughts of sour wine from the herdsman's bowl | X |
He paid the full | P |
Price in bright gold of the brave white bull | P |
- | |
Comrades we all | Y |
From the pulpit tall | Y |
Have heard the fat friars say God has decreed | N |
That the peasant shall sweat and the soldier shall bleed | N |
And Hidalgo and King | S |
May righteously wring | S |
Sweat and blood from us all weak strong young and old | Z |
And turn the tax into Treasury gold | Z |
Well the friar knows best | Q |
Or why wear a cowl | A2 |
And a cord round his breast | Q |
So why should we scowl | A2 |
The friar is learned and knows the mind | B2 |
From core to rind | B2 |
Of God and the Virgin and ev'ry saint | C2 |
That a tongue can name or a brush can paint | C2 |
And I've heard him declare | D |
With a shout that shook all the birds in the air | D |
That two kinds of clay | D2 |
Are used in God's Pottery every day | D2 |
The finest and best he puts in a mould | Z |
Of purest gold | Z |
Stamped with the mark of His signet ring | S |
And He turns them out | E2 |
While the angels shout | E2 |
The Pope and the priest the Hidalgo and King | S |
And He gives them dominion full and just | F2 |
O'er the creatures He kneads from the common dust | F2 |
And the clay stamped with His proper sign | G2 |
Has right divine | G2 |
To the sweat and the blood and the bended knee | H2 |
Of such my gossips as ye and me | H2 |
Who cares Not I | V |
Only let King and Hidalgo buy | V |
With the red pistoles | W |
They wring from our sweltering bodies and souls | W |
Treasures as full | P |
Of the worth of gold as the bold white bull | P |
- | |
The Hidalgo rode back to the Court | U |
And to finish the sport | U |
When the King had been crowned | B |
And the flaxen hair of the bride had been bound | B |
With the crown of the Queen | C |
He took a huge necklace of plates of gold | Z |
With rubies between | C |
And wound it threefold | Z |
Round the brute's broad neck and with ruby ring | S |
In its fire puffed nostrils had it led | I2 |
To the feet of the Queen as she sat by the King | S |
With the red crown set on her lily head | I2 |
And she said | I2 |
'Let the bull be led | I2 |
To the floor | D |
Of the arena Proclaim | J2 |
In my name | J2 |
That the valliant and bold Toreador | D |
Who slays him shall pull | P |
The rubies and gold from the gore | D |
Of the bold white bull ' | - |
- | |
That is the news which I bear | D |
I heard it below in the square | D |
And to and fro | D |
I heard the voice blow | D |
Of Pedro the brawny young Toreador | D |
As he swore | D |
By the tremulous light of the golden star | D |
That quivers beneath the soft lid | A |
Of Pilar | D |
Who sells tall lilies through fair Madrid | A |
He would wind six fold | Z |
Round her neck long slender round and full | P |
The rubies and gold | Z |
That three times rolled | Z |
Round the mighty breast of the bold white bull | P |
And loudly he sang | K2 |
While the wine cups rang | K2 |
'If I'm the bravest Toreador | D |
In gallant gay Madrid | A |
If thou hast got the brightest eye | V |
That dances 'neath a lid | A |
If e'er of Andalusian wine | G2 |
I drank a bottle full | P |
The gold the rubies shall be thine | G2 |
That deck the bold white bull ' | - |
- | |
Already a chorus rings out in the city | H2 |
A jubilant ditty | H2 |
And every guitar | D |
Vibrates to the names of Pedro and Pilar | D |
And the strings and voices are soulless and dull | L2 |
That sound not the name of the bold white bull | P |
Isabella Valancy Crawford
(1)
Poem topics: , Print This Poem , Rhyme Scheme
Submit Spanish Translation
Submit German Translation
Submit French Translation
Write your comment about The White Bull poem by Isabella Valancy Crawford
Best Poems of Isabella Valancy Crawford