Dead Leaves Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis
Rhyme Scheme: A BCDBBCCBEFEFEF G HIIHHIIHJKJKJK L MNNOONNOPQPQPR| DAWN | A |
| - | |
| As though a gipsy maiden with dim look | B |
| Sat crooning by the roadside of the year | C |
| So Autumn in thy strangeness thou art here | D |
| To read dark fortunes for us from the book | B |
| Of fate thou flingest in the crinkled brook | B |
| The trembling maple's gold and frosty clear | C |
| Thy mocking laughter thrills the atmosphere | C |
| And drifting on its current calls the rook | B |
| To other lands As one who wades alone | E |
| Deep in the dusk and hears the minor talk | F |
| Of distant melody and finds the tone | E |
| In some wierd way compelling him to stalk | F |
| The paths of childhood over so I moan | E |
| And like a troubled sleeper groping walk | F |
| - | |
| DUSK | G |
| - | |
| The frightened herds of clouds across the sky | H |
| Trample the sunshine down and chase the day | I |
| Into the dusky forest lands of gray | I |
| And somber twilight Far and faint and high | H |
| The wild goose trails his harrow with a cry | H |
| Sad as the wail of some poor castaway | I |
| Who sees a vessel drifting far astray | I |
| Of his last hope and lays him down to die | H |
| The children riotous from school grow bold | J |
| And quarrel with the wind whose angry gust | K |
| Plucks off the summer hat and flaps the fold | J |
| Of many a crimson cloak and twirls the dust | K |
| In spiral shapes grotesque and dims the gold | J |
| Of gleaming tresses with the blur of rust | K |
| - | |
| NIGHT | L |
| - | |
| Funereal Darkness drear and desolate | M |
| Muffles the world The moaning of the wind | N |
| Is piteous with sobs of saddest kind | N |
| And laughter is a phantom at the gate | O |
| Of memory The long neglected grate | O |
| Within sprouts into flame and lights the mind | N |
| With hopes and wishes long ago refined | N |
| To ashes long departed friends await | O |
| Our words of welcome and our lips are dumb | P |
| And powerless to greet the ones that press | Q |
| Old kisses there The baby beats its drum | P |
| And fancy marches to the dear caress | Q |
| Of mother arms and all the gleeful hum | P |
| Of home intrudes upon our loneliness | R |
James Whitcomb Riley
(1)
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About Dead Leaves
Dead Leaves is a poem by James Whitcomb Riley. This page includes the poem text, poet information, related topics, comments, and similar poems.
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