The Portrait Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis
Rhyme Scheme: AB BCCDDEEFGHHIIJKBBLLM M NOPPQQMM RRSSTTUUVVWWAAVBBJ KTTVVXVVYYVVWWWWVV ZZA2VA2WWB2B2VC2VVWW VVWWWWD2WW| In some quaint Nurnberg | A |
| maler atelier | B |
| - | |
| Uprummaged When and where was never clear | B |
| Nor yet how he obtained it When by whom | C |
| 'Twas painted who shall say itself a gloom | C |
| Resisting inquisition I opine | D |
| It is a Duerer Mark that touch this line | D |
| Are they deniable Distinguished grace | E |
| Of the pure oval of the noble face | E |
| Tarnished in color badly Half in light | F |
| Extend it so Incline The exquisite | G |
| Expression leaps abruptly piercing scorn | H |
| Imperial beauty each an icy thorn | H |
| Of light disdainful eyes and well no use | I |
| Effaced and but beheld a sad abuse | I |
| Of patience Often vaguely visible | J |
| The portrait fills each feature making swell | K |
| The heart with hope avoiding face and hair | B |
| Start out in living hues astonished 'There | B |
| The picture lives ' your soul exults when lo | L |
| You hold a blur an undetermined glow | L |
| Dislimns a daub 'Restore ' Ah I have tried | M |
| Our best restorers and it has defied | M |
| - | |
| Storied mysterious say perhaps a ghost | N |
| Lives in the canvas hers some artist lost | O |
| A duchess' haply Her he worshiped dared | P |
| Not tell he worshiped From his window stared | P |
| Of Nuremberg one sunny morn when she | Q |
| Passed paged to court Her cold nobility | Q |
| Loved lived for like a purpose Seized and plied | M |
| A feverish brush her face Despaired and died | M |
| - | |
| The narrow Judengasse gables frown | R |
| Around a humpbacked usurer's where brown | R |
| Neglected in a corner long it lay | S |
| Heaped in a pile of riff raff such as say | S |
| Retables done in tempera and old | T |
| Panels by Wohlgemuth stiff paintings cold | T |
| Of martyrs and apostles names forgot | U |
| Holbeins and Duerers say a haloed lot | U |
| Of praying saints madonnas these perchance | V |
| 'Mid wine stained purples mothed an old romance | V |
| A crucifix and rosary inlaid | W |
| Arms Saracen elaborate a strayed | W |
| Niello of Byzantium rich work | A |
| In bronze of Florence here a murderous dirk | A |
| There holy patens | V |
| So My ancestor | B |
| The first De Herancour esteemed by far | B |
| This piece most precious most desirable | J |
| - | |
| Purchased and brought to Paris It looked well | K |
| In the dark paneling above the old | T |
| Hearth of the room The head's religious gold | T |
| The soft severity of the nun face | V |
| Made of the room an apostolic place | V |
| Revered and feared | X |
| Like some lived scene I see | V |
| That Gothic room its Flemish tapestry | V |
| Embossed within the marble hearth a shield | Y |
| Carved 'round with thistles in its argent field | Y |
| Three sable mallets arms of Herancour | V |
| Topped with the crest a helm and hands that bore | V |
| Outstretched two mallets On a lectern laid | W |
| Between two casements lozenge paned embayed | W |
| A vellum volume of black lettered text | W |
| Near by a taper winking as if vexed | W |
| With silken gusts a nervous curtain sends | V |
| Behind which haply daggered Murder bends | V |
| - | |
| And then I seem to see again the hall | Z |
| The stairway leading to that room Then all | Z |
| The terror of that night of blood and crime | A2 |
| Passes before me | V |
| It is Catherine's time | A2 |
| The house De Herancour's On floors splashed red | W |
| Torchlight of Medicean wrath is shed | W |
| Down carven corridors and rooms where couch | B2 |
| And chairs lie shattered and black shadows crouch | B2 |
| Torch pierced with fear a sound of swords draws near | V |
| The stir of searching steel | C2 |
| What find they here | V |
| Torch bearer swordsman and fierce halberdier | V |
| On St Bartholomew's A Huguenot | W |
| Dead in his chair Eyes violently shot | W |
| With horror glaring at the portrait there | V |
| Coiling his neck a blood line like a hair | V |
| Of finest fire The portrait like a fiend | W |
| Looking exalted visitation leaned | W |
| From its black panel in its eyes a hate | W |
| Satanic hair a glowing auburn late | W |
| A dull enduring golden | D2 |
| 'Just one thread | W |
| Of the fierce hair around his throat ' they said | W |
| 'Twisting a burning ray he staring dead ' | - |
Madison Julius Cawein
(1)
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About The Portrait
The Portrait is a poem by Madison Julius Cawein. This page includes the poem text, poet information, related topics, comments, and similar poems.
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