To Charles Cowden Clarke Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis
Rhyme Scheme: AABBCCDDEEFFGGHHIIJJ GGKLLLLLMMJJNNOOOPPQ QRRMMGGQQSSTTQQMMUUG GVVWWAAGGXXQQUUYYUUA AIIUUUULLUUBBBZZUUU QQLLQQQQA2A2A2A2AAUU A2A2A2A2A2A2LLQQUUB2 A2A2| Oft have you seen a swan superbly frowning | A |
| And with proud breast his own white shadow crowning | A |
| He slants his neck beneath the waters bright | B |
| So silently it seems a beam of light | B |
| Come from the galaxy anon he sports | C |
| With outspread wings the Naiad Zephyr courts | C |
| Or ruffles all the surface of the lake | D |
| In striving from its crystal face to take | D |
| Some diamond water drops and them to treasure | E |
| In milky nest and sip them off at leisure | E |
| But not a moment can he there insure them | F |
| Nor to such downy rest can he allure them | F |
| For down they rush as though they would be free | G |
| And drop like hours into eternity | G |
| Just like that bird am I in loss of time | H |
| Whene'er I venture on the stream of rhyme | H |
| With shatter'd boat oar snapt and canvass rent | I |
| I slowly sail scarce knowing my intent | I |
| Still scooping up the water with my fingers | J |
| In which a trembling diamond never lingers | J |
| - | |
| By this friend Charles you may full plainly see | G |
| Why I have never penn d a line to thee | G |
| Because my thoughts were never free and clear | K |
| And little fit to please a classic ear | L |
| Because my wine was of too poor a savour | L |
| For one whose palate gladdens in the flavour | L |
| Of sparkling Helicon small good it were | L |
| To take him to a desert rude and bare | L |
| Who had on Baiae's shore reclin'd at ease | M |
| While Tasso's page was floating in a breeze | M |
| That gave soft music from Armida's bowers | J |
| Mingled with fragrance from her rarest flowers | J |
| Small good to one who had by Mulla's stream | N |
| Fondled the maidens with the breasts of cream | N |
| Who had beheld Belphoebe in a brook | O |
| And lovely Una in a leafy nook | O |
| And Archimago leaning o'er his book | O |
| Who had of all that's sweet tasted and seen | P |
| From silv'ry ripple up to beauty's queen | P |
| From the sequester'd haunts of gay Titania | Q |
| To the blue dwelling of divine Urania | Q |
| One who of late had ta'en sweet forest walks | R |
| With him who elegantly chats and talks | R |
| The wrong'd Libertas who has told you stories | M |
| Of laurel chaplets and Apollo s glories | M |
| Of troops chivalrous prancing through a city | G |
| And tearful ladies made for love and pity | G |
| With many else which I have never known | Q |
| Thus have I thought and days on days have flown | Q |
| Slowly or rapidly unwilling still | S |
| For you to try my dull unlearned quill | S |
| Nor should I now but that I've known you long | T |
| That you first taught me all the sweets of song | T |
| The grand the sweet the terse the free the fine | Q |
| What swell'd with pathos and what right divine | Q |
| Spenserian vowels that elope with ease | M |
| And float along like birds o'er summer seas | M |
| Miltonian storms and more Miltonian tenderness | U |
| Michael in arms and more meek Eve s fair slenderness | U |
| Who read for me the sonnet swelling loudly | G |
| Up to its climax and then dying proudly | G |
| Who found for me the grandeur of the ode | V |
| Growing like Atlas stronger from its load | V |
| Who let me taste that more than cordial dram | W |
| The sharp the rapier pointed epigram | W |
| Shew'd me that epic was of all the king | A |
| Round vast and spanning all like Saturn's ring | A |
| You too upheld the veil from Clio's beauty | G |
| And pointed out the patriot's stern duty | G |
| The might of Alfred and the shaft of Tell | X |
| The hand of Brutus that so grandly fell | X |
| Upon a tyrant's head Ah had I never seen | Q |
| Or known your kindness what might I have been | Q |
| What my enjoyments in my youthful years | U |
| Bereft of all that now my life endears | U |
| And can I e'er these benefits forget | Y |
| And can I e'er repay the friendly debt | Y |
| No doubly no yet should these rhymings please | U |
| I shall roll on the grass with two fold ease | U |
| For I have long time been my fancy feeding | A |
| With hopes that you would one day think the reading | A |
| Of my rough verses not an hour mis s pent | I |
| Should it e'er be so what a rich content | I |
| Some weeks have pass'd since last I saw the spires | U |
| In lucent Thames reflected warm desires | U |
| To see the sun o'er peep the eastern dimness | U |
| And morning shadows streaking into slimness | U |
| Across the lawny fields and pebbly water | L |
| To mark the time as they grow broad and shorter | L |
| To feel the air that plays about the hills | U |
| And sips its freshness from the little rills | U |
| To see high golden corn wave in the light | B |
| When Cynthia smiles upon a summer's night | B |
| And peers among the cloudlet's jet and white | B |
| As though she were reclining in a bed | Z |
| Of bean blossoms in heaven freshly shed | Z |
| No sooner had I stepp'd into these pleasures | U |
| Than I began to think of rhymes and measures | U |
| The air that floated by me seem d to say | U |
| 'Write thou wilt never have a better day ' | - |
| And so I did When many lines I d written | Q |
| Though with their grace I was not oversmitten | Q |
| Yet as my hand was warm I thought I d better | L |
| Trust to my feelings and write you a letter | L |
| Such an attempt required an inspiration | Q |
| Of a peculiar sort a consummation | Q |
| Which had I felt these scribblings might have been | Q |
| Verses from which the soul would never wean | Q |
| But many days have past since last my heart | A2 |
| Was warm d luxuriously by divine Mozart | A2 |
| By Arne delighted or by Handel madden'd | A2 |
| Or by the song of Erin pierc d and sadden'd | A2 |
| What time you were before the music sitting | A |
| And the rich notes to each sensation fitting | A |
| Since I have walk'd with you through shady lanes | U |
| That freshly terminate in open plains | U |
| And revel'd in a chat that ceased not | A2 |
| When at night fall among your books we got | A2 |
| No nor when supper came nor after that | A2 |
| Nor when reluctantly I took my hat | A2 |
| No nor till cordially you shook my hand | A2 |
| Mid way between our homes your accents bland | A2 |
| Still sounded in my ears when I no more | L |
| Could hear your footsteps touch the grav ly floor | L |
| Sometimes I lost them and then found again | Q |
| You chang'd the footpath for the grassy plain | Q |
| In those still moments I have wish'd you joys | U |
| That well you know to honour 'Life's very toys | U |
| 'With him ' said I 'will take a pleasant charm | B2 |
| 'It cannot be that ought will work him harm ' | - |
| These thoughts now come o er me with all their might | A2 |
| Again I shake your hand friend Charles good night | A2 |
John Keats
(1)
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About To Charles Cowden Clarke
To Charles Cowden Clarke is a poem by John Keats. This page includes the poem text, poet information, related topics, comments, and similar poems.
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