Time Of Clearer Twitterings Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis
Rhyme Scheme: A BBCCDDDDEEFFEEGH A IIDDJJKKJJEELLHH A MMJJNNEEOJEEHHEE JPPPEEQQEEJJJJJJI | A |
- | |
Time of crisp and tawny leaves | B |
And of tarnished harvest sheaves | B |
And of dusty grasses weeds | C |
Thistles with their tufted seeds | C |
Voyaging the Autumn breeze | D |
Like as fairy argosies | D |
Time of quicker flash of wings | D |
And of clearer twitterings | D |
In the grove or deeper shade | E |
Of the tangled everglade | E |
Where the spotted water snake | F |
Coils him in the sunniest brake | F |
And the bittern as in fright | E |
Darts in sudden slanting flight | E |
Southward while the startled crane | G |
Films his eyes in dreams again | H |
- | |
II | A |
- | |
Down along the dwindled creek | I |
We go loitering We speak | I |
Only with old questionings | D |
Of the dear remembered things | D |
Of the days of long ago | J |
When the stream seemed thus and so | J |
In our boyish eyes The bank | K |
Greener then through rank on rank | K |
Of the mottled sycamores | J |
Touching tops across the shores | J |
Here the hazel thicket stood | E |
There the almost pathless wood | E |
Where the shellbark hickory tree | L |
Rained its wealth on you and me | L |
Autumn as you loved us then | H |
Take us to your heart again | H |
- | |
III | A |
- | |
Season halest of the year | M |
How the zestful atmosphere | M |
Nettles blood and brain and smites | J |
Into life the old delights | J |
We have tasted in our youth | N |
And our graver years forsooth | N |
How again the boyish heart | E |
Leaps to see the chipmunk start | E |
From the brush and sleek the sun | O |
Very beauty as he runs | J |
How again a subtle hint | E |
Of crushed pennyroyal or mint | E |
Sends us on our knees as when | H |
We were truant boys of ten | H |
Brown marauders of the wood | E |
Merrier than Robin Hood | E |
- | |
IV | - |
- | |
Ah will any minstrel say | J |
In his sweetest roundelay | P |
What is sweeter after all | P |
Than black haws in early Fall | P |
Fruit so sweet the frost first sat | E |
Dainty toothed and nibbled at | E |
And will any poet sing | Q |
Of a lusher richer thing | Q |
Than a ripe May apple rolled | E |
Like a pulpy lump of gold | E |
Under thumb and finger tips | J |
And poured molten through the lips | J |
Go ye bards of classic themes | J |
Pipe your songs by classic streams | J |
I would twang the redbird's wings | J |
In the thicket while he sings | J |
James Whitcomb Riley
(1)
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