Squire Percy's Pride Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis

Rhyme Scheme: ABCBDEFE GHIHJKEK CLMLNOPO QQEQRSTS PUVUWXPX QYZYKA2TA2 B2C2XC2EC2C2C2 XC2EC2EA2TA2 QC2C2C2C2C2EC2 C2C2C2C2C2EC2E D2XC2XC2DED EEC2EC2EC2E EC2C2C2EWEE2 XXC2XEC2F2C2

The Squire was none of your common menA
Whose ancestors nobody knowsB
But visible was his lineageC
In the lines of his Roman noseB
That turned in the true patrician curveD
In the curl of his princely lipsE
In his slightly insolent eyelidsF
In his pointed finger tipsE
-
Very erect and grand looked the SquireG
As he walked o'er his broad estateH
For he felt that the earth was honoredI
In bearing his honorable weightH
Proudly he strolled through his wooded parkJ
Deer haunted and gloomily grandK
Or gazed from his pillared porticoesE
On his far outlying landK
-
In a tiny whitewashed cottageC
Half covered with roses wildL
His cheerful faced old gardener dweltM
Alone with his motherless childL
The Squire owned the very floor he trodN
The grass in his garden lotO
The poor man had only this one little lambP
Yet he envied the rich man notO
-
Poor was the gardener yet rich withalQ
In this priceless pearl of a girlQ
So perfect a form so faultless a faceE
Never brightened the halls of an EarlQ
Her eyes were two fathomless stars of lightR
And they shone on the Squire day by dayS
Till their warm and perilous splendorT
So melted his pride awayS
-
That he fain would have taken this pretty pet lambP
To dwell in his stately foldU
To fetter it fast with a jeweled chainV
And cage it with bars of goldU
But this coy little lamb loved its freedomW
Not so free was she though to be trueX
But oh the dainty and shy little lambP
Well her master's voice she knewX
-
'Twas vain for the Squire the story to tellQ
Of his riches and high descentY
As it fell into one rosy shell of an earZ
Out of its mate it wentY
How one grim old ancestor into the landK
With William the Conqueror cameA2
She thought the sweet of a conquerorT
She knew with that very nameA2
-
So in this tender conflictB2
The great man was forced to yieldC2
To the handsome sunburnt ploughmanX
Who sowed and reaped in his fieldC2
For vainly he poured out his glittering giftsE
Vainly he plead and besoughtC2
Her heart was a tender and soft little heartC2
But it was not a heart to be boughtC2
-
So strange a thing I warrant youX
Happens not every dayC2
That the pride that had thriven for centuriesE
One slight little maiden should slayC2
Why the proud Squire's Roman featuresE
Quivered and burned with shameA2
And the picture of his grim ancestorT
Blushed in its antique frameA2
-
Were this a romance an idle taleQ
The Squire would sicken and dieC2
Slain by the pitiless crueltyC2
Of her dark and dazzling eyeC2
And she in some shadowy conventC2
Would bow her beautiful headC2
But the hand that should have told penitent beadsE
Wore a plain gold ring insteadC2
-
And he not twice had his oak trees bloomedC2
Ere he wedded a lady grandC2
Whose tall and towering family treeC2
Had for ages darkened the landC2
'Twas a famous genealogical treeC2
With no modernly thrifty shootsE
But a tree with a sap of royaltyC2
Encrusting its mossy old rootsE
-
This leaf he plucked from the outmost twigD2
Was somewhat withered 'tis trueX
Long years had flown since it lightly dancedC2
To the summer air and the dewX
Not much of a dowry brought sheC2
In beauty or vulgar pelfD
But she had two or three ancestorsE
More than the Squire himselfD
-
'Twas much to muse o'er their musty namesE
And to think that his children's brainsE
Should be moved by the sanguine currentC2
That had flown through such ancient veinsE
But I think sometimes in his secret heartC2
The Squire breathed woeful sighsE
For the fresh sweet face of the little maidC2
With the dark and wonderful eyesE
-
But she no bird ever sang such songsE
To its mate from contented nestC2
As this wee waiting wife when the twilightC2
Was treading the glorious westC2
As she looked through the clustering rosesE
For the manly form that would comeW
Up through the cool green evening fieldsE
To this sweet little wife and homeE2
-
She could see the great stone mansionX
Towering over the oaks' dark greenX
And the lawn like emerald velvetC2
Fit for the feet of a queenX
But round this brown eyed princessE
Did Love his ermine foldC2
Queen was she of a richer realmF2
She had dearer wealth than goldC2

Marietta Holley



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Squire Percy's Pride is a poem by Marietta Holley. This page includes the poem text, poet information, related topics, comments, and similar poems.



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