The Prisoner Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis

Rhyme Scheme: ABABCDCD EFEGFHIJ KHKHLFLM NONOJKJK PGPGNANA DQQQFQGQ NRNRQGQS KHKHTUT QVQOHQJQ

THERE where the swift Rhone's waters flowA
Its verdant banks betweenB
Where fragrant myrtles bending growA
And Rhone reflects their greenB
There where the vineyards deck the hillsC
And o'er the valleys spreadD
Which golden citrons' fragrance fillsC
And plantains rear their headD
-
There stood as sunk the lord of dayE
Upon the smiling shoreF
One who long watch'd the waters playE
And thought his sorrows o'erG
A Russian hero stolen by warF
The honour of the DonH
Divided from his friends afarI
He wander'd there aloneJ
-
'O roll ' he sang 'ye waters rollK
Flow in your glory onH
Your waves shall waken on my soulK
The memory of the DonH
My days pass by without an aimL
Amidst life's busy roarF
For what is life without its fameL
Or the bright world 'tis poorM
-
'Now nature wears its spring tide dressN
The sun shines splendidlyO
All liberty and lovelinessN
O why am I not freeO
O roll ye waters rage thou RhoneJ
And waken as ye rollK
The thoughts of my domestic zoneJ
Within my troubled soulK
-
'The maidens here are fair and brightP
Their glance is full of fireG
And their all graceful smiles of lightP
Might satisfy desireG
'But what is love in foreign landsN
Or joy I only knowA
The joy and love that bless our sandsN
Midst forests and midst snowA
-
'Give me my freedom let me treadD
Once more my country's strandQ
With frost and storm all overspreadQ
My home my father landQ
Deep is the snow around my doorF
But give me my own steedQ
And day and night the mountains o'erG
Me to my home he'll leadQ
-
'At home there's one who sits and keepsN
The memory of her loveR
And often to the window creepsN
And pours her prayers aboveR
She guards the thoughts of him whose mindQ
Guards every thought of herG
She pats the horse I left behindQ
How privileged to be thereS
-
'O roll thou Rhone ye waters rollK
Rush in your glory onH
Your waves still waken in my soulK
The memory of the DonH
Come winds come hither from the northT
Come in your freshness comeU
And thou bright pole star blazen forthT
Memento of my home '-
-
So spake the prisoner as he turn'dQ
To Lyons his tired eyeV
When long in exile's chains he mourn'dQ
His hapless destinyO
He sang the Rhone roll'd proudly onH
The moon oft kiss'd its tideQ
And oft on Lyons' turrets shoneJ
The sun in all his prideQ

Konstantin Nikolaevich Batiushkov



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