A Pastoral. Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis
Rhyme Scheme: ABABCDCD EFEFGHGI EEEEJDJD EKEELDLD MNMNODOD PQPQRSRS| Surely Lucy love returns | A |
| Though her meaning's not reveal'd | B |
| Surely love her bosom burns | A |
| Which her coyness keeps conceal'd | B |
| Else what means that flushing cheek | C |
| When with her I chance to be | D |
| And those looks that almost speak | C |
| A secret warmth of love for me | D |
| - | |
| Would she where she valued not | E |
| Give such proofs of sweet esteem | F |
| Think what flowers for me she's got | E |
| What can this but fondness seem | F |
| When to try their pleasing powers | G |
| Swains for her cull every grove | H |
| When she takes my meaner flowers | G |
| What can guide the choice but love | I |
| - | |
| Was not love seen yesternight | E |
| When two sheep had rambled out | E |
| Who but Lucy set them right | E |
| The token told without a doubt | E |
| When others stare she turns and frowns | J |
| When I but glance a smile I see | D |
| When others talk she calls them clowns | J |
| But never says such words to me | D |
| - | |
| And when with swains to love inclin'd | E |
| To bear her milk I often go | K |
| Though they beg first she turns behind | E |
| And lingers till I ask her too | E |
| O'er stepping stones that cross the brooks | L |
| Who mind such trifles plainly see | D |
| In vain the shepherds prop their hooks | L |
| She always gives her hand to me | D |
| - | |
| To day while all were standing by | M |
| She wish'd for roses from the bower | N |
| The man too wish'd was in her eye | M |
| Though others flew to get the flower | N |
| And striving all they could to please | O |
| When prick'd with thorns they left the tree | D |
| She never seem'd concern'd at these | O |
| But only turn'd to caution me | D |
| - | |
| To day she careless view'd the bark | P |
| Where many a swain had cut her name | Q |
| 'Till whisper'd which was Colin's mark | P |
| Her cheek was instant in a flame | Q |
| In blushing beckons love did call | R |
| And courage seiz'd the chance the while | S |
| And though I kiss'd her 'fore them all | R |
| Her worst rebukings wore a smile | S |
John Clare
(1)
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A Pastoral. is a poem by John Clare. This page includes the poem text, poet information, related topics, comments, and similar poems.
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