The Harp-player On Etna Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis

Rhyme Scheme: A B CDE D FGHIIJJDGDHDDDDDKDHK HIILIACAMLDNMICDDDOD ND A P QRS HBBH IBBD TUDVTUVCDCDDDHBWHWBI II XDYDXDDZDZYAYDIDDDIC A2C A D I IIII DB2DA2 C2C2VVIID2BDD2A2PDB2 BBO A2A2BPHSHSBE2BE2DIDI OO XXF2F2SSBDDDDDBDDDDD DDDDDDBB P I I DVDV IDBD DDAD G2DDD DDDD S SH2 DI2A2I2 SBJ2B DBBB BK2DK2 BL2A2L2 A2BDB DM2DM2

IA
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THE LAST GLENB
-
Hist once moreC
Listen Pausanias Aye 'tis CalliclesD
I know those notes among a thousand HarkE
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CALLICLESD
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Sings unseen from belowF
The track winds down to the clear streamG
To cross the sparkling shallows thereH
The cattle love to gather on their wayI
To the high mountain pastures and to stayI
Till the rough cow herds drive them pastJ
Knee deep in the cool ford for 'tis the lastJ
Of all the woody high well water'd dellsD
On Etna and the beamG
Of noon is broken there by chestnut boughsD
Down its steep verdant sides the airH
Is freshen'd by the leaping stream which throwsD
Eternal showers of spray on the moss'd rootsD
Of trees and veins of turf and long dark shootsD
Of ivy plants and fragrant hanging bellsD
Of hyacinths and on late anemoniesD
That muffle its wet banks but gladeK
And stream and sward and chestnut treesD
End here Etna beyond in the broad glareH
Of the hot noon without a shadeK
Slope behind slope up to the peak lies bareH
The peak round which the white clouds playI
In such a glen on such a dayI
On Pelion on the grassy groundL
Chiron the aged Centaur layI
The young Achilles standing byA
The Centaur taught him to exploreC
The mountains where the glens are dryA
And the tired Centaurs come to restM
And where the soaking springs aboundL
And the straight ashes grow for spearsD
And where the hill goats come to feedN
And the sea eagles build their nestM
He show'd him Phthia far awayI
And said O boy I taught this loreC
To Peleus in long distant yearsD
He told him of the Gods the starsD
The tides and then of mortal warsD
And of the life which heroes leadO
Before they reach the Elysian placeD
And rest in the immortal meadN
And all the wisdom of his raceD
-
-
-
IIA
-
TYPHOP
-
He advances to the edge of the crater SmokeQ
and fire break forth with a loud noise andR
CALLICLES is heard below singingS
-
The lyre's voice is lovely everywhereH
In the court of Gods in the city of menB
And in the lonely rock strewn mountain glenB
In the still mountain airH
-
Only to Typho it sounds hatefullyI
To Typho only the rebel o'erthrownB
Through whose heart Etna drives her roots of stoneB
To imbed them in the seaD
-
Wherefore dost thou groan so loudT
Wherefore do thy nostrils flashU
Through the dark night suddenlyD
Typho such red jets of flameV
Is thy tortur'd heart still proudT
Is thy fire scath'd arm still rashU
Still alert thy stone crush'd frameV
Doth thy fierce soul still deploreC
The ancient rout by the Cilician hillsD
And that curst treachery on the Mount of GoreC
Do thy bloodshot eyes still seeD
The fight that crown'd thy illsD
Thy last defeat in this Sicilian seaD
Hast thou sworn in thy sad lairH
Where east the strong sea currents suck'd thee downB
Never to cease to writhe and try to sleepW
Letting the sea stream wander through thy hairH
That thy groans like thunder deepW
Begin to roll and almost drownB
The sweet notes whose lulling spellI
Gods and the race of mortals love so wellI
When through thy eaves thou hearest music swellI
-
But an awful pleasure blandX
Spreading o'er the Thunderer's faceD
When the sound climbs near his seatY
The Olympian council seesD
As he lets his lax right handX
Which the lightnings doth embraceD
Sink upon his mighty kneesD
And the eagle at the beckZ
Of the appeasing gracious harmonyD
Droops all his sheeny brown deep feather'd neckZ
Nestling nearer to Jove's feetY
While o'er his sovereign eyeA
The curtains of the blue films slowly meetY
And the white Olympus peaksD
Rosily brighten and the sooth'd Gods smileI
At one another from their golden chairsD
And no one round the charm d circle speaksD
Only the loved Hebe bearsD
The cup about whose draughts beguileI
Pain and care with a dark storeC
Of fresh pull'd violets wreath'd and nodding o'erA2
And her flush'd feet glow on the marble floorC
-
-
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IIIA
-
MARSYASD
-
CALLICLES from belowI
-
As the sky brightening south wind clears the dayI
And makes the mass'd clouds rollI
The music of the lyre blows awayI
The clouds that wrap the soulI
-
Oh that Fate had let me seeD
That triumph of the sweet persuasive lyreB2
That famous final victoryD
When jealous Pan with Marsyas did conspireA2
-
When from far Parnassus' sideC2
Young Apollo all the prideC2
Of the Phrygian flutes to tameV
To the Phrygian highlands cameV
Where the long green reed beds swayI
In the rippled waters greyI
Of that solitary lakeD2
Where Maeander's springs are bornB
Where the ridg'd pine wooded rootsD
Of Messogis westward breakD2
Mounting westward high and higherA2
There was held the famous strifeP
There the Phrygian brought his flutesD
And Apollo brought his lyreB2
And when now the westering sunB
Touch'd the hills the strife was doneB
And the attentive Muses saidO
'Marsyas thou art vanquish d '-
Then Apollo's ministerA2
Hang'd upon a branching firA2
Marsyas that unhappy FaunB
And began to whet his knifeP
But the Maenads who were thereH
Left their friend and with robes flowingS
In the wind and loose dark hairH
O'er their polish'd bosoms blowingS
Each her ribbon'd tambourineB
Flinging on the mountain sodE2
With a lovely frighten'd mienB
Came about the youthful GodE2
But he turn'd his beauteous faceD
Haughtily another wayI
From the grassy sun warm'd placeD
Where in proud repose he layI
With one arm over his headO
Watching how the whetting spedO
-
But aloof on the lake strandX
Did the young Olympus standX
Weeping at his master's endF2
For the Faun had been his friendF2
For he taught him how to singS
And he taught him flute playingS
Many a morning had they goneB
To the glimmering mountain lakesD
And had torn up by the rootsD
The tall crested water reedsD
With long plumes and soft brown seedsD
And had carved them into flutesD
Sitting on a tabled stoneB
Where the shoreward ripple breaksD
And he taught him how to pleaseD
The red snooded Phrygian girlsD
Whom the summer evening seesD
Flashing in the dance's whirlsD
Underneath the starlit treesD
In the mountain villagesD
Therefore now Olympus standsD
At his master's piteous criesD
Pressing fast with both his handsD
His white garment to his eyesD
Not to see Apollo's scornB
Ah poor Faun poor Faun ah poor FaunB
-
-
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IVP
-
APOLLOI
-
CALLICLES front belowI
-
Through the black rushing smoke burstsD
Thick breaks the red flameV
All Etna heaves fiercelyD
Her forest cloth'd frameV
-
Not here O ApolloI
Are haunts meet for theeD
But where Helicon breaks downB
In cliff to the seaD
-
Where the moon silver'd inletsD
Send far their light voiceD
Up the still vale of ThisbeA
O speed and rejoiceD
-
On the sward at the cliff topG2
Lie strewn the white flocksD
On the cliff side the pigeonsD
Roost deep in the rocksD
-
In the moonlight the shepherdsD
Soft lull'd by the rillsD
Lie wrapt in their blanketsD
Asleep on the hillsD
-
What forms are these comingS
So white through the gloom '-
What garments out glisteningS
The gold flower'd broomH2
-
What sweet breathing presenceD
Out perfumes the thymeI2
What voices enraptureA2
The night's balmy primeI2
-
'Tis Apollo comes leadingS
His choir the NineB
The leader is fairestJ2
But all are divineB
-
They are lost in the hollowsD
They stream up againB
What seeks on this mountainB
The glorified trainB
-
They bathe on this mountainB
In the spring by their roadK2
Then on to OlympusD
Their endless abodeK2
-
Whose praise do they mentionB
Of what is it toldL2
What will be for everA2
What was from of oldL2
-
First hymn they the FatherA2
Of all things and thenB
The rest of immortalsD
The action of menB
-
The day in his hotnessD
The strife with the palmM2
The night in her silenceD
The stars in their calmM2

Matthew Arnold



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