The Midlands Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis
Rhyme Scheme: ABABCDCDEE FGGGHIHIJJ KLKLMANAGG GGGGOGOGGG PQPQARARSS| Black in the summer night my Cotswold hill | A |
| Aslant my window sleeps beneath a sky | B |
| Deep as the bedded violets that fill | A |
| March woods with dusky passion As I lie | B |
| Abed between cool walls I watch the host | C |
| Of the slow stars lit over Gloucester plain | D |
| And drowsily the habit of these most | C |
| Beloved of English lands moves in my brain | D |
| While silence holds dominion of the dark | E |
| Save when the foxes from the spinneys bark | E |
| - | |
| I see the valleys in their morning mist | F |
| Wreathed under limpid hills in moving light | G |
| Happy with many a yeoman melodist | G |
| I see the little roads of twinkling white | G |
| Busy with fieldward teams and market gear | H |
| Of rosy men cloth gaitered who can tell | I |
| The many minded changes of the year | H |
| Who know why crops and kine fare ill or well | I |
| I see the sun persuade the mist away | J |
| Till town and stead are shining to the day | J |
| - | |
| I see the wagons move along the rows | K |
| Of ripe and summer breathing clover flower | L |
| I see the lissom husbandman who knows | K |
| Deep in his heart the beauty of his power | L |
| As lithely pitched the full heaped fork bids on | M |
| The harvest home I hear the rickyard fill | A |
| With gossip as in generations gone | N |
| While wagon follows wagon from the hill | A |
| I think how when our seasons all are sealed | G |
| Shall come the unchanging harvest from the field | G |
| - | |
| I see the barns and comely manors planned | G |
| By men who somehow moved in comely thought | G |
| Who with a simple shippon to their hand | G |
| As men upon some godlike business wrought | G |
| I see the little cottages that keep | O |
| Their beauty still where since Plantagenet | G |
| Have come the shepherds happily to sleep | O |
| Finding the loaves and cups of cider set | G |
| I see the twisted shepherds brown and old | G |
| Driving at dusk their glimmering sheep to fold | G |
| - | |
| And now the valleys that upon the sun | P |
| Broke from their opal veils are veiled again | Q |
| And the last light upon the wolds is done | P |
| And silence falls on flock and fields and men | Q |
| And black upon the night I watch my hill | A |
| And the stars shine and there an owly wing | R |
| Brushes the night and all again is still | A |
| And from this land of worship that I sing | R |
| I turn to sleep content that from my sires | S |
| I draw the blood of England's midmost shires | S |
John Drinkwater
(1)
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About The Midlands
The Midlands is a poem by John Drinkwater. This page includes the poem text, poet information, related topics, comments, and similar poems.
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