Rural Morning Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis

Rhyme Scheme: ABCCDDEEFFGHIIJJKKII LLMMNNMMOOPPQQPPRRII SSTT UUVVPPWXPPPPPPYYPPUU QQPPZZA2A2B2 XWPPC2D2E2E2YYF2F2PP XX CCPPG2G2H2H2CCI2I2J2 J2PPK2K2PPL2L2 PPM2N2O2O2P2P2Q2Q2H2 H2PPR2R2S2S2T2U2V2V2 CCFFEEW2W2NNX2X2PPY2 Z2PPZZA3A3FUFU

Soon as the twilight through the distant mistA
In silver hemmings skirts the purple eastB
Ere yet the sun unveils his smiles to viewC
And dries the morning's chilly robes of dewC
Young Hodge the horse boy with a soodly gaitD
Slow climbs the stile or opes the creaky gateD
With willow switch and halter by his sideE
Prepared for Dobbin whom he means to rideE
The only tune he knows still whistling oerF
And humming scraps his father sung beforeF
As 'Wantley Dragon ' and the 'Magic Rose 'G
The whole of music that his village knowsH
Which wild remembrance in each little townI
From mouth to mouth through ages handles downI
Onward he jolls nor can the minstrel throngsJ
Entice him once to listen to their songsJ
Nor marks he once a blossom on his wayK
A senseless lump of animated clayK
With weather beaten hat of rusty brownI
Stranger to brinks and often to a crownI
With slop frock suiting to the ploughman's tasteL
Its greasy skirtings twisted round his waistL
And hardened high lows clenched with nails aroundM
Clamping defiance oer the stoney groundM
The deadly foes to many a blossomed sproutN
That luckless meets him in his morning's routN
In hobbling speed he roams the pasture roundM
Till hunted Dobbin and the rest are foundM
Where some from frequent meddlings of his whipO
Well know their foe and often try to slipO
While Dobbin tamed by age and labour standsP
To meet all trouble from his brutish handsP
And patient goes to gate or knowly brakeQ
The teasing burden of his foe to takeQ
Who soon as mounted with his switching wealsP
Puts Dob's best swiftness in his heavy heelsP
The toltering bustle of a blundering trotR
Which whips and cudgels neer increased a jotR
Though better speed was urged by the clownI
And thus he snorts and jostles to the townI
-
And now when toil and summer's in its primeS
In every vill at morning's earliest timeS
To early risers many a Hodge is seenT
And many a Dob's heard clattering oer the greenT
-
Now straying beams from day's unclosing eyeU
In copper coloured patches flush the skyU
And from night's prison strugglingly encroachV
To bring the summons of warm day's approachV
Till slowly mounting oer the ridge of cloudsP
That yet half shows his face and half enshroudsP
The unfettered sun takes his unbounded reignW
And wakes all life to noise and toil againX
And while his opening mellows oer the scenesP
Of wood and field their many mingling greensP
Industry's bustling din once more devoursP
The soothing peace of morning's early hoursP
The grunt of hogs freed from their nightly densP
And constant cacklings of new laying hensP
And ducks and geese that clamorous joys repeatY
The splashing comforts of the pond to meetY
And chirping sparrows dropping from the eavesP
For offal kernels that the poultry leavesP
Oft signal calls of danger chittering highU
At skulking cats and dogs approaching nighU
And lowing steers that hollow echoes wakeQ
Around the yard their nightly fast to breakQ
As from each barn the lumping flail reboundsP
In mingling concert with the rural soundsP
While oer the distant fields more faintly creepZ
The murmuring bleatings of unfolding sheepZ
And ploughman's callings that more hoarse proceedA2
Where industry still urges labour's speedA2
The bellowing of cows with udders fullB2
That wait the welcome halloo of 'come mull '-
And rumbling waggons deafening againX
Rousing the dust along the narrow laneW
And cracking whips and shepherd's hooting criesP
From woodland echoes urging sharp repliesP
Hodge in his waggon marks the wondrous tongueC2
And talks with echo as he drives alongD2
Still cracks his whip bawls every horse's nameE2
And echo still as ready bawls the sameE2
The puzzling mystery he would gladly cheatY
And fain would utter what it can't repeatY
Till speedless trials prove the doubted elfF2
As skilled in noise and sounds as Hodge himselfF2
And quite convinced with the proofs it givesP
The boy drives on and fancies echo livesP
Like some wood fiend that frights benighted menX
The troubling spirit of a robber's denX
-
And now the blossom of the village viewC
With airy hat of straw and apron blueC
And short sleeved gown that half to guess revealsP
By fine turned arms what beauty it concealsP
Whose cheeks health flushes with as sweet a redG2
As that which stripes the woodbine oer her headG2
Deeply she blushes on her morn's employH2
To prove the fondness of some passing boyH2
Who with a smile that thrills her soul to viewC
Holds the gate open till she passes throughC
While turning nods beck thanks for kindness doneI2
And looks if looks could speak proclaim her wonI2
With well scoured buckets on proceeds the maidJ2
And drives her cows to milk beneath the shadeJ2
Where scarce a sunbeam to molest her stealsP
Sweet as the thyme that blossoms where she kneelsP
And there oft scares the cooing amorous doveK2
With her own favoured melodies of loveK2
Snugly retired in yet dew laden bowersP
This sweetest specimen of rural flowersP
Displays red glowing in the morning windL2
The powers of health and nature when combinedL2
-
Last on the road the cowboy careless swingsP
Leading tamed cattle in their tending stringsP
With shining tin to keep his dinner warmM2
Swung at his back or tucked beneath his armN2
Whose sun burnt skin and cheeks chuffed out with fatO2
Are dyed as rusty as his napless hatO2
And others driving loose their herds at willP2
Are now heard whooping up the pasture hillP2
Peeled sticks they bear of hazel or of ashQ2
The rib marked hides of restless cows to thrashQ2
In sloven garb appears each bawling boyH2
As fit and suiting to his rude employH2
His shoes worn down by many blundering treadsP
Oft show the tenants needing safer shedsP
The pithy bunch of unripe nuts to seekR2
And crabs sun reddened with a tempting cheekR2
From pasture hedges daily puts to rackS2
His tattered clothes that scarcely screen the backS2
Daubed all about as if besmeared with bloodT2
Stained with the berries of the brambly woodU2
That stud the straggling briars as black as jetV2
Which when his cattle lair he runs to getV2
Or smaller kinds as if beglossed with dewC
Shining dim powdered with a downy blueC
That on weak tendrils lowly creeping growF
Where choaked in flags and sedges wandering slowF
The brook purls simmering its declining tideE
Down the crooked boundings of the pasture sideE
There they to hunt the luscious fruit delightW2
And dabbling keep within their charges' sightW2
Oft catching prickly struttles on their routN
And miller thumbs and gudgeons driving outN
Hid near the arched brig under many a stoneX2
That from its wall rude passing clowns have thrownX2
And while in peace cows eat and chew their cudsP
Moozing cool sheltered neath the skirting woodsP
To double uses they the hours convertY2
Turning the toils of labour into sportZ2
Till morn's long streaking shadows lose their tailsP
And cooling winds swoon into faultering galesP
And searching sunbeams warm and sultry creepZ
Waking the teazing insects from their sleepZ
And dreaded gadflies with their drowsy humA3
On the burnt wings of mid day zephyrs comeA3
Urging each lown to leave his sports in fearF
To stop his starting cows that dread the flyU
Droning unwelcome tidings on his earF
That the sweet peace of rural morn's gone byU

John Clare



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