Fragment Of 'the Castle Builder.' Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis
Rhyme Scheme: AABBCCDDEEFGHHIIJJKK LLJJMMNNOOPJQQRRCSST TUUVVSWWTo night I'll have my friar let me think | A |
About my room I'll have it in the pink | A |
It should be rich and sombre and the moon | B |
Just in its mid life in the midst of June | B |
Should look thro' four large windows and display | C |
Clear but for gold fish vases in the way | C |
Their glassy diamonding on Turkish floor | D |
The tapers keep aside an hour and more | D |
To see what else the moon alone can show | E |
While the night breeze doth softly let us know | E |
My terrace is well bower'd with oranges | F |
Upon the floor the dullest spirit sees | G |
A guitar ribband and a lady's glove | H |
Beside a crumple leaved tale of love | H |
A tambour frame with Venus sleeping there | I |
All finish'd but some ringlets of her hair | I |
A viol bow strings torn cross wise upon | J |
A glorious folio of Anacreon | J |
A skull upon a mat of roses lying | K |
Ink'd purple with a song concerning dying | K |
An hour glass on the turn amid the trails | L |
Of passion flower just in time there sails | L |
A cloud across the moon the lights bring in | J |
And see what more my phantasy can win | J |
It is a gorgeous room but somewhat sad | M |
The draperies are so as tho' they had | M |
Been made for Cleopatra's winding sheet | N |
And opposite the stedfast eye doth meet | N |
A spacious looking glass upon whose face | O |
In letters raven sombre you may trace | O |
Old 'Mene Mene Tekel Upharsin ' | P |
Greek busts and statuary have ever been | J |
Held by the finest spirits fitter far | Q |
Than vase grotesque and Siamesian jar | Q |
Therefore 'tis sure a want of Attic taste | R |
That I should rather love a Gothic waste | R |
Of eyesight on cinque coloured potter's clay | C |
Than on the marble fairness of old Greece | S |
My table coverlits of Jason's fleece | S |
And black Numidian sheep wool should be wrought | T |
Gold black and heavy from the Lama brought | T |
My ebon sofas should delicious be | U |
With down from Leda's cygnet progeny | U |
My pictures all Salvator's save a few | V |
Of Titian's portraiture and one though new | V |
Of Haydon's in its fresh magnificence | S |
My wine O good 'tis here at my desire | W |
And I must sit to supper with my friar | W |
John Keats
(1)
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