The Countess Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis
Rhyme Scheme: A BBCDEEFFGGHIJKLLMMNO PPQRSSTTTUUVVWWXXYYZ ZZA2A2B2B2SS C2D2C2D2 E2F2E2G2 H2I2H2I2 J2I2J2I2 I2QI2Q ZK2ZK2 L2M2L2M2 B2TB2T N2O2N2O2 P2Q2P2Q2 R2S2R2S2 T2U2T2V2 W2X2W2X2 Y2Z2Y2Z2 A3SA3S FS2FS2 SSSS SB3SB3 C3X2C3X2 SSSS SX2SX2 D3X2D3X2 A3I2E3I2 VF3VG3 I2T2I2T2 C3SC3S H3X2H3X2 I2T2I2T2 I3X2I3X2 X2I2X2J3 X2SX2S K3EK3ETO E W | A |
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I KNOW not Time and Space so intervene | B |
Whether still waiting with a trust serene | B |
Thou bearest up thy fourscore years and ten | C |
Or called at last art now Heaven's citizen | D |
But here or there a pleasant thought of thee | E |
Like an old friend all day has been with me | E |
The shy still boy for whom thy kindly hand | F |
Smoothed his hard pathway to the wonder land | F |
Of thought and fancy in gray manhood yet | G |
Keeps green the memory of his early debt | G |
To day when truth and falsehood speak their words | H |
Through hot lipped cannon and the teeth of swords | I |
Listening with quickened heart and ear intent | J |
To each sharp clause of that stern argument | K |
I still can hear at times a softer note | L |
Of the old pastoral music round me float | L |
While through the hot gleam of our civil strife | M |
Looms the green mirage of a simpler life | M |
As at his alien post the sentinel | N |
Drops the old bucket in the homestead well | O |
And hears old voices in the winds that toss | P |
Above his head the live oak's beard of moss | P |
So in our trial time and under skies | Q |
Shadowed by swords like Islam's paradise | R |
I wait and watch and let my fancy stray | S |
To milder scenes and youth's Arcadian day | S |
And howsoe'er the pencil dipped in dreams | T |
Shades the brown woods or tints the sunset streams | T |
The country doctor in the foreground seems | T |
Whose ancient sulky down the village lanes | U |
Dragged like a war car captive ills and pains | U |
I could not paint the scenery of my song | V |
Mindless of one who looked thereon so long | V |
Who night and day on duty's lonely round | W |
Made friends o' the woods and rocks and knew the sound | W |
Of each small brook and what the hillside trees | X |
Said to the winds that touched their leafy keys | X |
Who saw so keenly and so well could paint | Y |
The village folk with all their humors quaint | Y |
The parson ambling on his wall eyed roan | Z |
Grave and erect with white hair backward blown | Z |
The tough old boatman half amphibious grown | Z |
The muttering witch wife of the gossip's tale | A2 |
And the loud straggler levying his blackmail | A2 |
Old customs habits superstitions fears | B2 |
All that lies buried under fifty years | B2 |
To thee as is most fit I bring my lay | S |
And grateful own the debt I cannot pay | S |
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Over the wooded northern ridge | C2 |
Between its houses brown | D2 |
To the dark tunnel of the bridge | C2 |
The street comes straggling down | D2 |
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You catch a glimpse through birch and pine | E2 |
Of gable roof and porch | F2 |
The tavern with its swinging sign | E2 |
The sharp horn of the church | G2 |
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The river's steel blue crescent curves | H2 |
To meet in ebb and flow | I2 |
The single broken wharf that serves | H2 |
For sloop and gundelow | I2 |
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With salt sea scents along its shores | J2 |
The heavy hay boats crawl | I2 |
The long antennae of their oars | J2 |
In lazy rise and fall | I2 |
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Along the gray abutment's wall | I2 |
The idle shad net dries | Q |
The toll man in his cobbler's stall | I2 |
Sits smoking with closed eyes | Q |
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You hear the pier's low undertone | Z |
Of waves that chafe and gnaw | K2 |
You start a skipper's horn is blown | Z |
To raise the creaking draw | K2 |
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At times a blacksmith's anvil sounds | L2 |
With slow and sluggard beat | M2 |
Or stage coach on its dusty rounds | L2 |
Fakes up the staring street | M2 |
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A place for idle eyes and ears | B2 |
A cobwebbed nook of dreams | T |
Left by the stream whose waves are years | B2 |
The stranded village seems | T |
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And there like other moss and rust | N2 |
The native dweller clings | O2 |
And keeps in uninquiring trust | N2 |
The old dull round of things | O2 |
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The fisher drops his patient lines | P2 |
The farmer sows his grain | Q2 |
Content to hear the murmuring pines | P2 |
Instead of railroad train | Q2 |
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Go where along the tangled steep | R2 |
That slopes against the west | S2 |
The hamlet's buried idlers sleep | R2 |
In still profounder rest | S2 |
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Throw back the locust's flowery plume | T2 |
The birch's pale green scarf | U2 |
And break the web of brier and bloom | T2 |
From name and epitaph | V2 |
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A simple muster roll of death | W2 |
Of pomp and romance shorn | X2 |
The dry old names that common breath | W2 |
Has cheapened and outworn | X2 |
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Yet pause by one low mound and part | Y2 |
The wild vines o'er it laced | Z2 |
And read the words by rustic art | Y2 |
Upon its headstone traced | Z2 |
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Haply yon white haired villager | A3 |
Of fourscore years can say | S |
What means the noble name of her | A3 |
Who sleeps with common clay | S |
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An exile from the Gascon land | F |
Found refuge here and rest | S2 |
And loved of all the village band | F |
Its fairest and its best | S2 |
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He knelt with her on Sabbath morns | S |
He worshipped through her eyes | S |
And on the pride that doubts and scorns | S |
Stole in her faith's surprise | S |
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Her simple daily life he saw | S |
By homeliest duties tried | B3 |
In all things by an untaught law | S |
Of fitness justified | B3 |
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For her his rank aside he laid | C3 |
He took the hue and tone | X2 |
Of lowly life and toil and made | C3 |
Her simple ways his own | X2 |
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Yet still in gay and careless ease | S |
To harvest field or dance | S |
He brought the gentle courtesies | S |
The nameless grace of France | S |
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And she who taught him love not less | S |
From him she loved in turn | X2 |
Caught in her sweet unconsciousness | S |
What love is quick to learn | X2 |
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Each grew to each in pleased accord | D3 |
Nor knew the gazing town | X2 |
If she looked upward to her lord | D3 |
Or he to her looked down | X2 |
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How sweet when summer's day was o'er | A3 |
His violin's mirth and wail | I2 |
The walk on pleasant Newbury's shore | E3 |
The river's moonlit sail | I2 |
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Ah life is brief though love be long | V |
The altar and the bier | F3 |
The burial hymn and bridal song | V |
Were both in one short year | G3 |
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Her rest is quiet on the hill | I2 |
Beneath the locust's bloom | T2 |
Far off her lover sleeps as still | I2 |
Within his scutcheoned tomb | T2 |
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The Gascon lord the village maid | C3 |
In death still clasp their hands | S |
The love that levels rank and grade | C3 |
Unites their severed lands | S |
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What matter whose the hillside grave | H3 |
Or whose the blazoned stone | X2 |
Forever to her western wave | H3 |
Shall whisper blue Garonne | X2 |
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O Love so hallowing every soil | I2 |
That gives thy sweet flower room | T2 |
Wherever nursed by ease or toil | I2 |
The human heart takes bloom | T2 |
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Plant of lost Eden from the sod | I3 |
Of sinful earth unriven | X2 |
White blossom of the trees of God | I3 |
Dropped down to us from heaven | X2 |
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This tangled waste of mound and stone | X2 |
Is holy for thy sale | I2 |
A sweetness which is all thy own | X2 |
Breathes out from fern and brake | J3 |
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And while ancestral pride shall twine | X2 |
The Gascon's tomb with flowers | S |
Fall sweetly here O song of mine | X2 |
With summer's bloom and showers | S |
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And let the lines that severed seem | K3 |
Unite again in thee | E |
As western wave and Gallic stream | K3 |
Are mingled in one sea | E |
John Greenleaf Whittier
(1)
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