The Last Of March. Written At Lolham Brigs. Poem Rhyme Scheme

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Though o'er the darksome northern hill	A
Old ambush'd winter frowning flies	B
And faintly drifts his threatenings still	A
In snowy sweet and blackening skies	B
Yet here the willow leaning lies	B
And shields beneath the budding flower	C
Where banks to break the wind arise	B
'Tis sweet to sit and spend an hour	C
	-
Though floods of winter bustling fall	D
Adown the arches bleak and blea	E
Though snow storms clothe the mossy wall	D
And hourly whiten o'er the lea	E
Yet when from clouds the sun is free	E
And warms the learning bird to sing	F
'Neath sloping bank and sheltering tree	E
'Tis sweet to watch the creeping spring	F
	-
Though still so early one may spy	G
And track her footsteps every hour	C
The daisy with its golden eye	G
And primrose bursting into flower	C
And snugly where the thorny bower	C
Keeps off the nipping frost and wind	H
Excluding all but sun and shower	C
There children early violets find	H
	-
Here 'neath the shelving bank's retreat	I
The horse blob swells its golden ball	D
Nor fear the lady smocks to meet	I
The snows that round their blossoms fall	D
Here by the arch's ancient wall	D
The antique elder buds anew	J
Again the bulrush sprouting tall	D
The water wrinkles rippling through	J
	-
As spring's warm herald April comes	K
As nature's sleep is nearly past	L
How sweet to hear the wakening hums	K
Of aught beside the winter blast	L
Of feather'd minstrels first and last	L
The robin's song's again begun	M
And as skies clear when overcast	L
Larks rise to hail the peeping sun	M
	-
The startling peewits as they pass	N
Scream joyous whirring over head	O
Right glad the fields and meadow grass	N
Will quickly hide their careless shed	O
The rooks where yonder witchens spread	O
Quawk clamorous to the spring's approach	P
Here silent from its watery bed	O
To hail its coming leaps the roach	P
	-
While stalking o'er the fields again	Q
In stripp'd defiance to the storms	R
The hardy seedsman spreads the grain	S
And all his hopeful toil performs	R
In flocks the timid pigeon swarms	R
For scatter'd kernels chance may spare	T
And as the plough unbeds the worms	U
The crows and magpies gather there	T
	-
Yon bullocks low their liberty	E
The young grass cropping to their fill	A
And colts from straw yards neighing free	E
Spring's opening promise 'joy at will	A
Along the bank beside the rill	A
The happy lambkins bleat and run	M
Then weary 'neath a sheltering hill	A
Drop basking in the gleaming sun	M
	-
At distance from the water's edge	V
On hanging sallow's farthest stretch	W
The moor hen 'gins her nest of sedge	V
Safe from destroying school boy's reach	X
Fen sparrows chirp and fly to fetch	W
The wither'd reed down rustling nigh	G
And by the sunny side the ditch	Y
Prepare their dwelling warm and dry	G
	-
Again a storm encroaches round	Z
Thick clouds are darkening deep behind	H
And through the arches hoarsely sound	Z
The risings of the hollow wind	H
Spring's early hopes seem half resign'd	H
And silent for a while remain	S
Till sunbeams broken clouds can find	H
And brighten all to life again	Q
	-
Ere yet a hailstone pattering comes	K
Or dimps the pool the rainy squall	D
One hears in mighty murmuring hums	K
The spirit of the tempest call	D
Here sheltering 'neath the ancient wall	D
I still pursue my musing dreams	A2
And as the hailstones round me fall	D
I mark their bubbles in the streams	A2
	-
Reflection here is warm'd to sigh	G
Tradition gives these brigs renown	B2
Though heedless Time long pass'd them by	G
Nor thought them worthy noting down	B2
Here in the mouth of every clown	B2
The Roman road familiar sounds	C2
All else with everlasting frown	B2
Oblivion's mantling mist surrounds	C2
	-
These walls the work of Roman hands	D2
How may conjecturing Fancy pore	E2
As lonely here one calmly stands	D2
On paths that age has trampled o'er	C
The builders' names are known no more	E2
No spot on earth their memory bears	F2
And crowds reflecting thus before	E2
Have since found graves as dark as theirs	F2
	-
The storm has ceas'd again the sun	M
The ague shivering season dries	B
Short winded March thou'lt soon be done	M
Thy fainting tempest mildly dies	B
Soon April's flowers and dappled skies	B
Shall spread a couch for lovely May	G2
Upon whose bosom Nature lies	B
And smiles her joyous youth away	G2

John Clare

The Last Of March. Written At Lolham Brigs. Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis

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