Spring Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis
Rhyme Scheme: AA BB CC DE FF GG HH II JK LL MM CC NN OO| O the frozen valley and frozen hill make a coffin wide and deep | A |
| And the dead river lies all its laughter stilled within it fast asleep | A |
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| The trees that have played with the merry thing and freighted its breast with leaves | B |
| Give never a murmur or sigh of woe they are dead no dead thing grieves | B |
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| No carol of love from a song bird's throat the world lies naked and still | C |
| For all things tender and all things sweet have been touched by the gruesome chill | C |
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| Not a flower a blue forget me not a wild rose or jasmine soft | D |
| To lay its bloom on the dead river's lips that have kissed them all so oft | E |
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| But look a ladder is spanning the space 'twixt earth and the sky beyond | F |
| A ladder of gold for the Maid of Grace the strong the subtle the fond | F |
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| Spring with the warmth in her footsteps light and the breeze and the fragrant breath | G |
| Is coming to press her radiant face to that which is cold in death | G |
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| Spring with a mantle made of the gold held close in a sunbeam's heart | H |
| Thrown over her shoulders bonnie and bare see the sap in the great trees start | H |
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| Where the hem of this flowing garment trails see the glow the color bright | I |
| A stirring and spreading of something fair the dawn is chasing the night | I |
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| Spring with all love and all dear delights pulsing in every vein | J |
| The old earth knows her and thrills to her touch as she claims her own again | K |
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| Spring with the hyacinths filling her lap and violet seeds in her hair | L |
| With the crocus hiding its satin head in her bosom warm and fair | L |
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| Spring with the daffodils at her feet and pansies abloom in her eyes | M |
| Spring with enough of God in herself to make the dead to arise | M |
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| For see as she bends o'er the coffin deep the frozen valley and hill | C |
| The dead river stirs ah that ling'ring kiss is making its heart to thrill | C |
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| And then as she closer and closer leans it slips from its snowy shroud | N |
| Frightened a moment then rushing away calling and laughing aloud | N |
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| The hill where she rested is all abloom the wood is green as of old | O |
| And wakened birds are striving to send their songs to the Gates of Gold | O |
Jean Blewett
(1)
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About Spring
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