A Story Of The Caracas Valley Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis
Rhyme Scheme: AABCBCDDEECCFFGH IIJJKKGGLLGGGGMMNNGG CCOMMMP CCCQCCQ RRMSSM GGAANNMM TTCCNNUUVVTWTWQQXXYY ZZA2B2A2B2GGC2C2CCCC GGD2D2AAAC CCTTTGGGKKGGGGCCMMCC E2E2F2F2G2G2H2H2CCTT A2A2AI2J2J2JJCCK2K2A ALCLCCCCCJJJCCSSJJKK L2L2SSCMCMGG M2M2N2N2N2CCTTCCN2N2 JJJAAMMJO2P2P2CNCCJV VCTCTQQJJ AACAACCCAJJA CCAAQ2Q2C2MMC2CCA AAMMJO2MMR2R2S2S2CCC T2T2C AAO2H2H2O2I2I2AJI2U2 U2 AV2V2QQW2W2FFX2X2F2F 2CCCCO2O2CCY2Y2Y2MMM TO2TJJCCCCCCJCCJ Z2Z2Y2Y2Y2JJJJCCCW2J JW2A3A3 JJJCCCCJ| High perch'd upon the rocky way | A |
| Stands a Posada stern and grey | A |
| Which from the valley seems as if | B |
| A condor there had paus'd to 'light | C |
| And rest upon that lonely cliff | B |
| From some stupendous flight | C |
| But when the road you gain at length | D |
| It seems a ruin'd hold of strength | D |
| With archway dark and bridge of stone | E |
| By waving shrubs all overgrown | E |
| Which clings 'round that ruin'd gate | C |
| Making it look less desolate | C |
| For here and there a wild flower's bloom | F |
| With brilliant hue relieves the gloom | F |
| Which clings 'round that Posada's wall | G |
| A sort of misty funeral pall | H |
| - | |
| The gulf spann'd by that olden arch | I |
| Might stop an army's onward march | I |
| For dark and dim far down below | J |
| 'Tis lost amid a torrent's flow | J |
| And blending with the eagle's scream | K |
| Sounds dismally that mountain stream | K |
| That rushes foaming down a fall | G |
| Which Chamois hunter might appal | G |
| Nor shame his manhood did he shrink | L |
| In treading on its dizzy brink | L |
| In years long past ere bridge or wall | G |
| Had spann'd that gulf and water fall | G |
| 'Tis said perhaps an idle tale | G |
| That on the road above the vale | G |
| Occurred as strange and wild a scene | M |
| As ever ballad told I ween | M |
| Yes on this road which seems to be | N |
| Suspended o'er eternity | N |
| So dim so shadow like the vale | G |
| O'er which it hangs but to my tale | G |
| Once 'tis well known this sunny land | C |
| Was ravag'd by full many a band | C |
| Of reckless buccaneers | O |
| Cities were captur'd old men slain | M |
| Trampled the fields of waving cane | M |
| Or scatter'd wide the garner'd grain | M |
| An hour wrought wreck of years | P |
| - | |
| Where'er these stern freebooters trod | C |
| In hacienda church of God | C |
| Or on the green enamell'd sod | C |
| They left foot prints so deep | Q |
| That but their simple names would start | C |
| The blood back to each Spanish heart | C |
| And make the children weep | Q |
| - | |
| E'en to this day their many crimes | R |
| The peasants sing in drowsy rhymes | R |
| On mountain or on plain | M |
| And as they sing the plaintive song | S |
| Tells many a deed of guilt and wrong | S |
| Each has a doleful strain | M |
| - | |
| - | |
| - | |
| One glorious morn it so befell | G |
| I heard the tale which I shall tell | G |
| At that Posada dark and grey | A |
| Which stands upon the mountain way | A |
| Between Caracas and the sea | N |
| So grim so dark it seem'd to me | N |
| Fit place for deed of guilt or sin | M |
| Tho' peaceful peasants dwelt therein | M |
| - | |
| At midnight we my friends and I | T |
| Beneath a tranquil tropic sky | T |
| Bestrode our mules and onward rode | C |
| Behind the guide who swiftly strode | C |
| Up the dark mountain side while we | N |
| With many a jest and repartee | N |
| With jingling swords and spurs and bits | U |
| Made trial of our youthful wits | U |
| Ah we were gay for we were young | V |
| And care had never on us flung | V |
| But to my tale the purple sky | T |
| Was thick overlaid with burning stars | W |
| And oft the breeze that murmur'd by | T |
| Brought dreamy tones from soft guitars | W |
| Until we sank in silence deep | Q |
| It was a night for thought not sleep | Q |
| It was a night for song and love | X |
| The burning planets shone above | X |
| The Southern Cross was all ablaze | Y |
| 'Tis long since it then met my gaze | Y |
| Above us whisp'ring in the breeze | Z |
| Were many strange gigantic trees | Z |
| And in their shadow deep and dark | A2 |
| Slept many a pile of mould'ring bones | B2 |
| For tales of murder fell and stark | A2 |
| Are told by monumental stones | B2 |
| Flung by the passer's hand until | G |
| The place grows to a little hill | G |
| Up through the shade we rode nor spoke | C2 |
| Till suddenly the morning broke | C2 |
| Beneath we saw in purple shade | C |
| The mighty sea above display'd | C |
| A thousand gorgeous hues which met | C |
| In tints that I remember yet | C |
| But which I may not paint my skill | G |
| Alas would but depict it ill | G |
| E'en Claude has never given hints | D2 |
| On canvas of such splendid tints | D2 |
| The mountains which ere dawn of day | A |
| I'd liken'd unto friars grey | A |
| Gigantic friars clad in grey | A |
| Stood now like kings wrapp'd in the fold | C |
| - | |
| Of gorgeous clouds around them roll'd | C |
| Their lofty heads all crown'd with gold | C |
| And many a painted bird went by | T |
| Strange to my unaccustom'd eye | T |
| Their plumage mimicking the sky | T |
| O'er many a league and many a mile | G |
| Crag pinnacle and lone defile | G |
| All Nature woke woke with a smile | G |
| As tho' the morning's golden gleam | K |
| Had broken some enchanting dream | K |
| But left its soft impression still | G |
| On lofty peak and dancing rill | G |
| With many a halt and many a call | G |
| At last we saw the rugged wall | G |
| And gaz'd upon the ruin'd gate | C |
| Which even then look'd desolate | C |
| For that Posada so forlorn | M |
| Seem'd sad e'en on so gay a morn | M |
| The heavy gate at length unbarr'd | C |
| We rode within the busy yard | C |
| Well scatter'd o'er with many a pack | E2 |
| For on that wild romantic track | E2 |
| The long and heavy laden trains | F2 |
| Toil seaward from the valley's plains | F2 |
| And often on its silence swells | G2 |
| The distant tinkle of the bells | G2 |
| While muleteers' shrill angry cries | H2 |
| From the dim road before you rise | H2 |
| And such were group'd in circles round | C |
| Playing at mont on the ground | C |
| Each swarthy face that met my eye | T |
| To thought of honesty gave lie | T |
| In each fierce orb there was a spark | A2 |
| That few would care to see by dark | A2 |
| And many a sash I saw gleam thro' | A |
| The keen cuchillo into view | I2 |
| Within the place was rude enough | J2 |
| The walls of clay in color buff | J2 |
| A pictur'd saint a cross or so | J |
| A hammock swinging to and fro | J |
| A gittern by the window laid | C |
| Whereon the morning breezes play'd | C |
| And its low tones and broken parts | K2 |
| Seem'd like some thoughtless minstrel's arts | K2 |
| A rugged table in the floor | A |
| Ran thro' this homely comedor | A |
| Here weary as you well may think | L |
| An hour or so we made abode | C |
| To give our mules both food and drink | L |
| Before we took again the road | C |
| And honestly our own repast | C |
| Was that of monks from lenten fast | C |
| The meal once o'er our stores replaced | C |
| We gather'd where the window fac'd | C |
| Upon the vale and gaz'd below | J |
| Where mists from a mad torrent's flow | J |
| Were dimly waving to and fro | J |
| Meanwhile the old guitar replied | C |
| To the swift fingers of our guide | C |
| His voice was deep and rich and strong | S |
| And he himself a child of song | S |
| At first the music's liquid flow | J |
| Was soft and plaintive rich and low | J |
| The murmur of a fountain's stream | K |
| Where sleeping water lilies dream | K |
| Or like the breathing of love vows | L2 |
| Beneath the shade of orange boughs | L2 |
| And then more stirring grew his song | S |
| A strain which swept the blood along | S |
| And as he sang his eyes so sad | C |
| Which lately wore the look of pain | M |
| Danc'd with a gleam both proud and glad | C |
| Awaken'd by his fervid strain | M |
| His face now flush'd and now grew pale | G |
| The song he sang was this my tale | G |
| - | |
| A fort above Laguayra stands | M2 |
| Which all the town below commands | M2 |
| The damp moss clings upon its walls | N2 |
| The rotting drawbridge slowly falls | N2 |
| Its dreary silentness appalls | N2 |
| The iron bars are thick with rust | C |
| And slowly moulder into dust | C |
| The roofless turrets show the sky | T |
| The moats below are bare and dry | T |
| No captain issues proud behest | C |
| The guard room echoes to no jest | C |
| As I have said within those walls | N2 |
| The very silentness appalls | N2 |
| In other days it was not so | J |
| The Spanish banner long ago | J |
| Above the turrets tall did flow | J |
| And many a gallant soldier there | A |
| With musket or with gleaming spear | A |
| Pac'd on the battlements that then | M |
| Were throng'd with tall and proper men | M |
| But this was many a year ago | J |
| A long shot back for mem'ry's bow | O2 |
| The Governor here made his home | P2 |
| Beneath the great hall's gilded dome | P2 |
| And here his lady wife he brought | C |
| From Spain across the sea | N |
| And sumptuous festival was made | C |
| Where now the tangled ivy's shade | C |
| Is hanging drearily | J |
| The lady was both fair and young | V |
| Fair as a poet ever sung | V |
| And well they lov'd so it is told | C |
| Had plighted troth in days gone by | T |
| Ere he had won his spurs of gold | C |
| Or gain'd his station high | T |
| And often from the martial keep | Q |
| They'd sail together on the deep | Q |
| Or wander many a weary mile | J |
| In lonely valley or defile | J |
| - | |
| Well once upon this road a pair | A |
| A lady and a cavalier | A |
| Were riding side by side | C |
| And she was young and passing fair | A |
| With crimson lips and ebon hair | A |
| She was the gallant's bride | C |
| And he was cast in manly mould | C |
| His port was high and free and bold | C |
| Fitting a cavalier | A |
| But now bent reverently low | J |
| His crest's unsullied plume of snow | J |
| Play'd 'mid the lady's hair | A |
| - | |
| This knight with orders on his breast | C |
| The Governor as you have guess'd | C |
| The lady was his wife and they | A |
| Alone were on the road that day | A |
| Their horses moving at a walk | Q2 |
| And they engaged in earnest talk | Q2 |
| Low words and sweet they spoke | C2 |
| The lady smil'd and blush'd and then | M |
| Smiling and blushing spoke again | M |
| When sleeping echo woke | C2 |
| Woke with the shouts of a wild band | C |
| Who urg'd with spur and heavy hand | C |
| Their steeds along the way | A |
| - | |
| Gave but one look the cavalier | A |
| Murmur'd a vow the lady fair | A |
| His right arm is around her thrown | M |
| Her form close gather'd to his own | M |
| While his brave steed white as the snow | J |
| Darts like an arrow from the bow | O2 |
| His hoofs fall fast as tempest rain | M |
| Spurning the road that rings again | M |
| Onward the race now fainter sounds | R2 |
| The yell and whoop but still like hounds | R2 |
| The pirate band behind him rush | S2 |
| Breaking the mountains solemn hush | S2 |
| On speeds he now his steed so white | C |
| Far in advance proclaims his flight | C |
| God speed him and his bride | C |
| But ah that chasm's fearful gape | T2 |
| Seems to forbid hope of escape | T2 |
| He cannot turn aside | C |
| - | |
| He bends his head is it in pray'r | A |
| Is it to shed a bitter tear | A |
| Or utter craven vow | O2 |
| No 'tis to gaze into those eyes | H2 |
| Which are to him love litten skies | H2 |
| To kiss his lady's brow | O2 |
| And must he on full well he knew | I2 |
| That none were spar'd by that wild crew | I2 |
| Never a lady fair | A |
| And now a shout a fierce halloo | J |
| Told that they were again in view | I2 |
| Close to his ear a bullet sings | U2 |
| And then the distant carbine rings | U2 |
| - | |
| Why pales the cavalier | A |
| And why does he now set his teeth | V2 |
| And draw his dagger from its sheath | V2 |
| He breasts his charger at the leap | Q |
| He pricketh him full sharp and deep | Q |
| He leaps and then with heaving flank | W2 |
| Gains footing on the other bank | W2 |
| A moment 'mid the pass's gloom | F |
| Vanish both veil and dancing plume | F |
| It seems a dream No there is proof | X2 |
| The clatter of a flying hoof | X2 |
| And too the lady's steed remains | F2 |
| With empty seat and flying reins | F2 |
| And then is borne to that wild rout | C |
| A long and proud triumphant shout | C |
| And he who led the pirate band | C |
| Urg'd on his horse with spur and hand | C |
| The long locks drifted from his brow | O2 |
| Like midnight waves from storm vexed prow | O2 |
| And darkly flashed his eyes of jet | C |
| Beneath the brows which almost met | C |
| Stern was his face but war and crime | Y2 |
| For he had sinn'd in many a clime | Y2 |
| Had plough'd it deeper far than time | Y2 |
| He was their chief will he draw rein | M |
| Will he the yawning rift refrain | M |
| And with his halting band remain | M |
| He rais'd up in his stirrups high | T |
| Better the chasm to descry | O2 |
| And measure with his hawk like eye | T |
| While his dark steed begrim'd with toil | J |
| Tried madly vainly to recoil | J |
| A mutter'd curse a sabre goad | C |
| Full at the leap the robber rode | C |
| Great God his horse near dead and spent | C |
| Scarce halfway o'er the chasm went | C |
| That fearful rush and daring bound | C |
| Was followed by a crashing sound | C |
| A sudden awful knell | J |
| For down more than a thousand feet | C |
| Where mist and mountain torrent meet | C |
| That reckless rider fell | J |
| - | |
| His band drew up they could not speak | Z2 |
| For long and loud his charger's shriek | Z2 |
| Was heard in an unearthly scream | Y2 |
| Above that roaring mountain stream | Y2 |
| Like fancied sound in fever'd dream | Y2 |
| When the sick brain with crazy skill | J |
| Weaves fantasies of woe and ill | J |
| Some said no steed gave forth that yell | J |
| And hinted solemnly of hell | J |
| And others said that from his vest | C |
| A miniature with haughty crest | C |
| And features like the lady's 'pressed | C |
| Fell on the rugged bank | W2 |
| But who he was none knew or tell | J |
| - | |
| They simply point out where he fell | J |
| When horse and horseman sank | W2 |
| Like Ravenswood he left no trace | A3 |
| Tradition only points the place | A3 |
| - | |
| Rude is my hand and rude my lay | J |
| Rude as the Inn time worn and grey | J |
| Where resting on the mountain way | J |
| I heard the tale which I have tried | C |
| To tell to thee and saw the wide | C |
| Deep rift ten yards from side to side | C |
| Great God it was a fearful ride | C |
| The robber took that day | J |
James Barron Hope
(1)
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