Little Florence Gray Poem Rhyme Scheme

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I was in Greece It was the hour of noon	A
And the gean wind had dropped asleep	B
Upon Hymettus and the thymy isles	C
Of Salamis and gina lay hung	D
Like clouds upon the bright and breathless sea	E
I had climbed up th' Acropolis at morn	F
And hours had fled as time will in a dream	G
Amid its deathless ruins for the air	H
Is full of spirits in these mighty fanes	E
And they walk with you As it sultrier grew	I
I laid me down within a shadow deep	B
Of a tall column of the Parthenon	J
And in an absent idleness of thought	K
I scrawled upon the smooth and marble base	E
Tell me O memory what wrote I there	H
The name of a sweet child I knew at Rome	L
	-
I was in Asia 'Twas a peerless night	M
Upon the plains of Sardis and the moon	A
Touching my eyelids through the wind stirred tent	N
Had witched me from my slumber I arose	E
And silently stole forth and by the brink	O
Of golden Pactolus where bathe his waters	E
The bases of Cybele's columns fair	H
I paced away the hours In wakeful mood	P
I mused upon the storied past awhile	Q
Watching the moon that with the same mild eye	R
Had looked upon the mighty Lybian kings	E
Sleeping around me Croesus who had heaped	S
Within the mouldering portico his gold	T
And Gyges buried with his viewless ring	U
Beneath you swelling tumulus and then	V
I loitered up the valley to a small	W
And humbler ruin where the undefiled	T
Of the Apocalypse their garments kept	T
Spotless and crossing with a conscious awe	X
The broken threshold to my spirit's eye	R
It seemed as if amid the moonlight stood	T
The angel of the church of Sardis still	Y
And I again passed onward and as dawn	Z
Paled the bright morning star I lay me down	A2
Weary and sad beside the river's brink	O
And 'twixt the moonlight and the rosy morn	F
Wrote with my fingers in the golden sands	E
Tell me O memory what wrote I there	H
The name of the sweet child I knew at Rome	L
	-
The dust is old upon my sandal shoon'	F
And still I am a pilgrim I have roved	T
From wild America to spicy Ind	T
And worshipped at innumerable shrines	E
Of beauty and the painter's art to me	E
And sculpture speak as with a living tongue	D
And of dead kingdoms I recall the soul	B2
Sitting amid their ruins I have stored	T
My memory with thoughts that can allay	C2
Fever and sadness and when life gets dim	D2
And I am overladen in my years	E
Minister to me But when wearily	E
The mind gives over toiling and with eyes	E
Open but seeing not and senses all	W
Lying awake within their chambers fine	F
Thought settles like a fountain clear and calm	E2
Far in its sleeping depths as 'twere a gem	F2
Tell me O memory what shines so fair	H
The face of the sweet child I knew at Rome	L

Nathaniel Parker Willis

Little Florence Gray Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis

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