The Fens Poem Rhyme Scheme

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Wandering by the river's edge	A
I love to rustle through the sedge	A
And through the woods of reed to tear	B
Almost as high as bushes are	C
Yet turning quick with shudder chill	D
As danger ever does from ill	D
Fear's moment ague quakes the blood	E
While plop the snake coils in the flood	E
And hissing with a forked tongue	F
Across the river winds along	G
In coat of orange green and blue	H
Now on a willow branch I view	H
Grey waving to the sunny gleam	I
Kingfishers watch the ripple stream	I
For little fish that nimble bye	J
And in the gravel shallows lie	J
	-
Eddies run before the boats	K
Gurgling where the fisher floats	K
Who takes advantage of the gale	L
And hoists his handkerchief for sail	L
On osier twigs that form a mast	M
While idly lies nor wanted more	N
The spirit that pushed him on before	N
	-
There's not a hill in all the view	H
Save that a forked cloud or two	H
Upon the verge of distance lies	O
And into mountains cheats the eyes	O
And as to trees the willows wear	B
Lopped heads as high as bushes are	C
Some taller things the distance shrouds	P
That may be trees or stacks or clouds	P
Or may be nothing still they wear	B
A semblance where there's nought to spare	B
	-
Among the tawny tasselled reed	Q
The ducks and ducklings float and feed	Q
With head oft dabbing in the flood	E
They fish all day the weedy mud	E
And tumbler like are bobbing there	B
Heels topsy turvy in the air	B
	-
The geese in troops come droving up	R
Nibble the weeds and take a sup	R
And closely puzzled to agree	S
Chatter like gossips over tea	S
The gander with his scarlet nose	T
When strife's at height will interpose	T
And stretching neck to that and this	U
With now a mutter now a hiss	U
A nibble at the feathers too	H
A sort of 'pray be quiet do '	-
And turning as the matter mends	U
He stills them into mutual friends	U
Then in a sort of triumph sings	U
And throws the water oer his wings	U
	-
Ah could I see a spinney nigh	J
A puddock riding in the sky	J
Above the oaks with easy sail	L
On stilly wings and forked tail	L
Or meet a heath of furze in flower	V
I might enjoy a quiet hour	V
Sit down at rest and walk at ease	U
And find a many things to please	U
But here my fancy's moods admire	W
The naked levels till they tire	V
Nor een a molehill cushion meet	X
To rest on when I want a seat	X
	-
Here's little save the river scene	Y
And grounds of oats in rustling green	Y
And crowded growth of wheat and beans	U
That with the hope of plenty leans	U
And cheers the farmer's gazing brow	Z
Who lives and triumphs in the plough	Z
One sometimes meets a pleasant sward	A2
Of swarthy grass and quickly marred	B2
The plough soon turns it into brown	C2
And when again one rambles down	C2
The path small hillocks burning lie	J
And smoke beneath a burning sky	J
Green paddocks have but little charms	U
With gain the merchandise of farms	U
And muse and marvel where we may	D2
Gain mars the landscape every day	D2
The meadow grass turned up and copt	D2
The trees to stumpy dotterels lopt	D2
The hearth with fuel to supply	J
For rest to smoke and chatter bye	J
Giving the joy of home delights	U
The warmest mirth on coldest nights	U
And so for gain that joy's repay	D2
Change cheats the landscape every day	D2
Nor trees nor bush about it grows	U
That from the hatchet can repose	U
And the horizon stooping smiles	U
Oer treeless fens of many miles	U
Spring comes and goes and comes again	E2
And all is nakedness and fen	E2

John Clare

The Fens Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis

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