On Receiving A Curious Shell Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis

Rhyme Scheme: ABAB CDCD EFEF GHGH IJIJ KLKL MNMN OPOP QRQR LFLF IJIJ

Hast thou from the caves of Golconda a gemA
Pure as the ice drop that froze on the mountainB
Bright as the humming bird's green diademA
When it flutters in sun beams that shine through a fountainB
-
Hast thou a goblet for dark sparkling wineC
That goblet right heavy and massy and goldD
And splendidly mark'd with the story divineC
Of Armida the fair and Rinaldo the boldD
-
Hast thou a steed with a mane richly flowingE
Hast thou a sword that thine enemy's smart isF
Hast thou a trumpet rich melodies blowingE
And wear'st thou the shield of the fam d BritomartisF
-
What is it that hangs from thy shoulder so braveG
Embroidered with many a spring peering flowerH
Is it a scarf that thy fair lady gaveG
And hastest thou now to that fair lady's bowerH
-
Ah courteous Sir Knight with large joy thou art crown'dI
Full many the glories that brighten thy youthJ
I will tell thee my blisses which richly aboundI
In magical powers to bless and to soothJ
-
On this scroll thou seest written in characters fairK
A sun beamy tale of a wreath and a chainL
And warrior it nurtures the property rareK
Of charming my mind from the trammels of painL
-
This canopy mark 'tis the work of a fayM
Beneath its rich shade did King Oberon languishN
When lovely Titania was far far awayM
And cruelly left him to sorrow and anguishN
-
There oft would he bring from his soft sighing luteO
Wild strains to which spell bound the nightingales listenedP
The wondering spirits of heaven were muteO
And tears 'mong the dewdrops of morning oft glistenedP
-
In this little dome all those melodies strangeQ
Soft plaintive and melting for ever will sighR
Nor e'er will the notes from their tenderness changeQ
Nor e'er will the music of Oberon dieR
-
So when I am in a voluptuous veinL
I pillow my head on the sweets of the roseF
And list to the tale of the wreath and the chainL
Till its echoes depart then I sink to reposeF
-
Adieu valiant Eric with joy thou art crown'dI
Full many the glories that brighten thy youthJ
I too have my blisses which richly aboundI
In magical powers to bless and to soothJ

John Keats



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