Rustic Fishing Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis

Rhyme Scheme: AABBCDEEFFGGHHIIJJKK JJLLMMNNOOPPBBQQRSTT UUVVWWXXYYZZXXA2A2ZZ B2B2C2C2D2E2F2F2BBG2 G2H2H2I2I2ZZJ2J2K2L2

On Sunday mornings freed from hard employA
How oft I mark the mischievous young boyA
With anxious haste his pole and lines provideB
For make shifts oft crook'd pins to thread were tiedB
And delve his knife with wishes ever warmC
In rotten dunghills for the grub and wormD
The harmless treachery of his hooks to baitE
Tracking the dewy grass with many a mateE
To seek the brook that down the meadows glidesF
Where the grey willow shadows by its sidesF
Where flag and reed in wild disorder spreadG
And bending bulrush bows its taper headG
And just above the surface of the floodsH
Where water lilies mount their snowy budsH
On whose broad swimming leaves of glossy greenI
The shining dragon fly is often seenI
Where hanging thorns with roots wash'd bare appearJ
That shield the moor hen's nest from year to yearJ
While crowding osiers mingling wild amongK
Prove snug asylums to her brood when youngK
Who when surpris'd by foes approaching nearJ
Plunge 'neath the weeping bough and disappearJ
There far from terrors that the parson bringsL
Or church bell hearing when its summons ringsL
Half hid in meadow sweet and keck's high flowersM
In lonely sport they spend the Sunday hoursM
Though ill supplied for fishing seems the brookN
That breaks the mead in many a stinted crookN
Oft choak'd in weeds and foil'd to find a roadO
The choice retirement of the snake and toadO
Then lost in shallows dimpling restlesslyP
In fluttering struggles murmuring to be freeP
O'er gravel stones its depth can scarcely hideB
It runs the remnant of its broken tideB
Till seemly weary of each choak'd controlQ
It rests collected in some gulled holeQ
Scoop'd by the sudden floods when winter's snowR
Melts in confusion by a hasty thawS
There bent in hopeful musings on the brinkT
They watch their floating corks that seldom sinkT
Save when a wary roach or silver breamU
Nibbles the worm as passing up the streamU
Just urging expectation's hopes to stayV
To view the dodging cork then slink awayV
Still hopes keep burning with untir'd delightW
Still wobbling curves keep wavering like a biteW
If but the breezy wind their floats should springX
And move the water with a troubling ringX
A captive fish still fills the anxious eyesY
And willow wicks lie ready for the prizeY
Till evening gales awaken damp and chillZ
And nip the hopes that morning suns instilZ
And resting flies have tired their gauzy wingX
Nor longer tempt the watching fish to springX
Who at the worm no nibbles more repeatA2
But lunge from night in sheltering flag retreatA2
Then disappointed in their day's employZ
They seek amusement in a feebler joyZ
Short is the sigh for fancies prov'd untrueB2
With humbler hopes still pleasure they pursueB2
Where the rude oak bridge scales the narrow passC2
Half hid in rustling reeds and scrambling grassC2
Or stepping stones stride o'er the narrow sloughsD2
Which maidens daily cross to milk their cowsE2
There they in artless glee for minnows runF2
And wade and dabble past the setting sunF2
Chasing the struttle o'er the shallow tideB
And flat stones turning up where gudgeons hideB
All former hopes their ill success delay'dG2
In this new change they fancy well repaidG2
And thus they wade and chatter o'er their joysH2
Till night unlook'd for young success destroysH2
Drives home the sons of solitude and streamsI2
And stops uncloy'd hope's ever fresh'ning dreamsI2
They then like school boys that at truant playZ
In sloomy fear lounge on their homeward wayZ
And inly tremble as they gain the townJ2
Where chastisement awaits with many a frownJ2
And hazel twigs in readiness prepar'dK2
For their long absence bring a meet rewardL2

John Clare



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