Ravenna Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis

Rhyme Scheme: AB CD EEFF GGAAHHCCGGHHIICCJJGG IIG GKKLMGG DDGGNKCCGGG GGGGGCCII OOPQCCGGGGG GIIHHORCC IIOOEESSCCGGTTUU OOQQVVIIWWM MXY Z A2A2PPMMIIGGB2B2 IGGGGGGOOICGGL MGGII C2C2PQII B2B2ICB2B2 I D2D2GGGGCCIIZZB2B2II GGIIGGI ICCIIIB2 GGIICCB2B2IIGGGGCC GGGGB2B2HH B2B2 GEEPP CCIIB2B2GGGGGG GGB2B2B2B2QPE2E2B2B2 II CCEEZZGGGGGGCCGGGGII IIHHIIGGQ QIIGGB2B2GGZZ B2B2B2B2GG CCGGHH Z CCB2B2B2B2EEG GGGIICCAAIIAACCIIGG AAGGIIB2B2 B2B2CC

Newdigate prize poem recited in the Sheldonian TheatreA
Oxford June thB
-
To my friend George Fleming author of 'The Nile Novel'C
and 'Mirage'D
-
I-
-
A year ago I breathed the Italian airE
And yet methinks this northern Spring is fairE
These fields made golden with the flower of MarchF
The throstle singing on the feathered larchF
The cawing rooks the wood doves fluttering by-
The little clouds that race across the sky-
And fair the violet's gentle drooping headG
The primrose pale for love uncomfortedG
The rose that burgeons on the climbing briarA
The crocus bed that seems a moon of fireA
Round girdled with a purple marriage ringH
And all the flowers of our English SpringH
Fond snowdrops and the bright starred daffodilC
Up starts the lark beside the murmuring millC
And breaks the gossamer threads of early dewG
And down the river like a flame of blueG
Keen as an arrow flies the water kingH
While the brown linnets in the greenwood singH
A year ago it seems a little timeI
Since last I saw that lordly southern climeI
Where flower and fruit to purple radiance blowC
And like bright lamps the fabled apples glowC
Full Spring it was and by rich flowering vinesJ
Dark olive groves and noble forest pinesJ
I rode at will the moist glad air was sweetG
The white road rang beneath my horse's feetG
And musing on Ravenna's ancient nameI
I watched the day till marked with wounds of flameI
The turquoise sky to burnished gold was turnedG
-
O how my heart with boyish passion burnedG
When far away across the sedge and mereK
I saw that Holy City rising clearK
Crowned with her crown of towers On and onL
I galloped racing with the setting sunM
And ere the crimson after glow was passedG
I stood within Ravenna's walls at lastG
-
II-
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How strangely still no sound of life or joyD
Startles the air no laughing shepherd boyD
Pipes on his reed nor ever through the dayG
Comes the glad sound of children at their playG
O sad and sweet and silent surely hereN
A man might dwell apart from troublous fearK
Watching the tide of seasons as they flowC
From amorous Spring to Winter's rain and snowC
And have no thought of sorrow here indeedG
Are Lethe's waters and that fatal weedG
Which makes a man forget his fatherlandG
-
Ay amid lotus meadows dost thou standG
Like Proserpine with poppy laden headG
Guarding the holy ashes of the deadG
For though thy brood of warrior sons hath ceasedG
Thy noble dead are with thee they at leastG
Are faithful to thine honour guard them wellC
O childless city for a mighty spellC
To wake men's hearts to dreams of things sublimeI
Are the lone tombs where rest the Great of TimeI
-
III-
-
-
Yon lonely pillar rising on the plainO
Marks where the bravest knight of France was slainO
The Prince of chivalry the Lord of warP
Gaston de Foix for some untimely starQ
Led him against thy city and he fellC
As falls some forest lion fighting wellC
Taken from life while life and love were newG
He lies beneath God's seamless veil of blueG
Tall lance like reeds wave sadly o'er his headG
And oleanders bloom to deeper redG
Where his bright youth flowed crimson on the groundG
-
Look farther north unto that broken moundG
There prisoned now within a lordly tombI
Raised by a daughter's hand in lonely gloomI
Huge limbed Theodoric the Gothic kingH
Sleeps after all his weary conqueringH
Time hath not spared his ruin wind and rainO
Have broken down his stronghold and againR
We see that Death is mighty lord of allC
And king and clown to ashen dust must fallC
-
Mighty indeed their glory yet to meI
Barbaric king or knight of chivalryI
Or the great queen herself were poor and vainO
Beside the grave where Dante rests from painO
His gilded shrine lies open to the airE
And cunning sculptor's hands have carven thereE
The calm white brow as calm as earliest mornS
The eyes that flashed with passionate love and scornS
The lips that sang of Heaven and of HellC
The almond face which Giotto drew so wellC
The weary face of Dante to this dayG
Here in his place of resting far awayG
From Arno's yellow waters rushing downT
Through the wide bridges of that fairy townT
Where the tall tower of Giotto seems to riseU
A marble lily under sapphire skiesU
-
Alas my Dante thou hast known the painO
Of meaner lives the exile's galling chainO
How steep the stairs within kings' houses areQ
And all the petty miseries which marQ
Man's nobler nature with the sense of wrongV
Yet this dull world is grateful for thy songV
Our nations do thee homage even sheI
That cruel queen of vine clad TuscanyI
Who bound with crown of thorns thy living browW
Hath decked thine empty tomb with laurels nowW
And begs in vain the ashes of her sonM
-
O mightiest exile all thy grief is doneM
Thy soul walks now beside thy BeatriceX
Ravenna guards thine ashes sleep in peaceY
-
IVZ
-
How lone this palace is how grey the wallsA2
No minstrel now wakes echoes in these hallsA2
The broken chain lies rusting on the doorP
And noisome weeds have split the marble floorP
Here lurks the snake and here the lizards runM
By the stone lions blinking in the sunM
Byron dwelt here in love and revelryI
For two long years a second AnthonyI
Who of the world another Actium madeG
Yet suffered not his royal soul to fadeG
Or lyre to break or lance to grow less keenB2
'Neath any wiles of an Egyptian queenB2
For from the East there came a mighty cry-
And Greece stood up to fight for LibertyI
And called him from Ravenna never knightG
Rode forth more nobly to wild scenes of fightG
None fell more bravely on ensanguined fieldG
Borne like a Spartan back upon his shieldG
O Hellas Hellas in thine hour of prideG
Thy day of might remember him who diedG
To wrest from off thy limbs the trammelling chainO
O Salamis O lone Plataean plainO
O tossing waves of wild Euboean seaI
O wind swept heights of lone ThermopylaeC
He loved you well ay not alone in wordG
Who freely gave to thee his lyre and swordG
Like AEschylos at well fought MarathonL
-
And England too shall glory in her sonM
Her warrior poet first in song and fightG
No longer now shall Slander's venomed spiteG
Crawl like a snake across his perfect nameI
Or mar the lordly scutcheon of his fameI
-
For as the olive garland of the raceC2
Which lights with joy each eager runner's faceC2
As the red cross which saveth men in warP
As a flame bearded beacon seen from farQ
By mariners upon a storm tossed seaI
Such was his love for Greece and LibertyI
-
Byron thy crowns are ever fresh and greenB2
Red leaves of rose from Sapphic MityleneB2
Shall bind thy brows the myrtle blooms for theeI
In hidden glades by lonely CastalyC
The laurels wait thy coming all are thineB2
And round thy head one perfect wreath will twineB2
-
VI
-
The pine tops rocked before the evening breezeD2
With the hoarse murmur of the wintry seasD2
And the tall stems were streaked with amber brightG
I wandered through the wood in wild delightG
Some startled bird with fluttering wings and fleetG
Made snow of all the blossoms at my feetG
Like silver crowns the pale narcissi layC
And small birds sang on every twining sprayC
O waving trees O forest libertyI
Within your haunts at least a man is freeI
And half forgets the weary world of strifeZ
The blood flows hotter and a sense of lifeZ
Wakes i' the quickening veins while once againB2
The woods are filled with gods we fancied slainB2
Long time I watched and surely hoped to seeI
Some goat foot Pan make merry minstrelsyI
Amid the reeds some startled Dryad maidG
In girlish flight or lurking in the gladeG
The soft brown limbs the wanton treacherous faceI
Of woodland god Queen Dian in the chaseI
White limbed and terrible with look of prideG
And leash of boar hounds leaping at her sideG
Or Hylas mirrored in the perfect streamI
-
O idle heart O fond Hellenic dreamI
Ere long with melancholy rise and swellC
The evening chimes the convent's vesper bellC
Struck on mine ears amid the amorous flowersI
Alas alas these sweet and honied hoursI
Had whelmed my heart like some encroaching seaI
And drowned all thoughts of black GethsemaneB2
-
VI-
-
O lone Ravenna many a tale is toldG
Of thy great glories in the days of oldG
Two thousand years have passed since thou didst seeI
Caesar ride forth to royal victoryI
Mighty thy name when Rome's lean eagles flewC
From Britain's isles to far Euphrates blueC
And of the peoples thou wast noble queenB2
Till in thy streets the Goth and Hun were seenB2
Discrowned by man deserted by the seaI
Thou sleepest rocked in lonely miseryI
No longer now upon thy swelling tideG
Pine forest like thy myriad galleys rideG
For where the brass beaked ships were wont to floatG
The weary shepherd pipes his mournful noteG
And the white sheep are free to come and goC
Where Adria's purple waters used to flowC
-
O fair O sad O Queen uncomfortedG
In ruined loveliness thou liest deadG
Alone of all thy sisters for at lastG
Italia's royal warrior hath passedG
Rome's lordliest entrance and hath worn his crownB2
In the high temples of the Eternal TownB2
The Palatine hath welcomed back her kingH
And with his name the seven mountains ringH
-
And Naples hath outlived her dream of painB2
And mocks her tyrant Venice lives againB2
New risen from the waters and the cry-
Of Light and Truth of Love and LibertyG
Is heard in lordly Genoa and whereE
The marble spires of Milan wound the airE
Rings from the Alps to the Sicilian shoreP
And Dante's dream is now a dream no moreP
-
But thou Ravenna better loved than allC
Thy ruined palaces are but a pallC
That hides thy fallen greatness and thy nameI
Burns like a grey and flickering candle flameI
Beneath the noonday splendour of the sunB2
Of new Italia for the night is doneB2
The night of dark oppression and the dayG
Hath dawned in passionate splendour far awayG
The Austrian hounds are hunted from the landG
Beyond those ice crowned citadels which standG
Girdling the plain of royal LombardyG
From the far West unto the Eastern seaG
-
I know indeed that sons of thine have diedG
In Lissa's waters by the mountain sideG
Of Aspromonte on Novara's plainB2
Nor have thy children died for thee in vainB2
And yet methinks thou hast not drunk this wineB2
From grapes new crushed of Liberty divineB2
Thou hast not followed that immortal StarQ
Which leads the people forth to deeds of warP
Weary of life thou liest in silent sleepE2
As one who marks the lengthening shadows creepE2
Careless of all the hurrying hours that runB2
Mourning some day of glory for the sunB2
Of Freedom hath not shewn to thee his faceI
And thou hast caught no flambeau in the raceI
-
Yet wake not from thy slumbers rest thee wellC
Amidst thy fields of amber asphodelC
Thy lily sprinkled meadows rest thee thereE
To mock all human greatness who would dareE
To vent the paltry sorrows of his lifeZ
Before thy ruins or to praise the strifeZ
Of kings' ambition and the barren prideG
Of warring nations wert not thou the BrideG
Of the wild Lord of Adria's stormy seaG
The Queen of double Empires and to theeG
Were not the nations given as thy preyG
And now thy gates lie open night and dayG
The grass grows green on every tower and hallC
The ghastly fig hath cleft thy bastioned wallC
And where thy mailed warriors stood at restG
The midnight owl hath made her secret nestG
O fallen fallen from thy high estateG
O city trammelled in the toils of FateG
Doth nought remain of all thy glorious daysI
But a dull shield a crown of withered baysI
-
Yet who beneath this night of wars and fearsI
From tranquil tower can watch the coming yearsI
Who can foretell what joys the day shall bringH
Or why before the dawn the linnets singH
Thou even thou mayst wake as wakes the roseI
To crimson splendour from its grave of snowsI
As the rich corn fields rise to red and goldG
From these brown lands now stiff with Winter's coldG
As from the storm rack comes a perfect starQ
-
O much loved city I have wandered farQ
From the wave circled islands of my homeI
Have seen the gloomy mystery of the DomeI
Rise slowly from the drear Campagna's wayG
Clothed in the royal purple of the dayG
I from the city of the violet crownB2
Have watched the sun by Corinth's hill go downB2
And marked the 'myriad laughter' of the seaG
From starlit hills of flower starred ArcadyG
Yet back to thee returns my perfect loveZ
As to its forest nest the evening doveZ
-
O poet's city one who scarce has seenB2
Some twenty summers cast their doublets greenB2
For Autumn's livery would seek in vainB2
To wake his lyre to sing a louder strainB2
Or tell thy days of glory poor indeedG
Is the low murmur of the shepherd's reedG
Where the loud clarion's blast should shake the sky-
And flame across the heavens and to try-
Such lofty themes were folly yet I knowC
That never felt my heart a nobler glowC
Than when I woke the silence of thy streetG
With clamorous trampling of my horse's feetG
And saw the city which now I try to singH
After long days of weary travellingH
-
VIIZ
-
Adieu Ravenna but a year agoC
I stood and watched the crimson sunset glowC
From the lone chapel on thy marshy plainB2
The sky was as a shield that caught the stainB2
Of blood and battle from the dying sunB2
And in the west the circling clouds had spunB2
A royal robe which some great God might wearE
While into ocean seas of purple airE
Sank the gold galley of the Lord of LightG
-
Yet here the gentle stillness of the nightG
Brings back the swelling tide of memoryG
And wakes again my passionate love for theeG
Now is the Spring of Love yet soon will comeI
On meadow and tree the Summer's lordly bloomI
And soon the grass with brighter flowers will blowC
And send up lilies for some boy to mowC
Then before long the Summer's conquerorA
Rich Autumn time the season's usurerA
Will lend his hoarded gold to all the treesI
And see it scattered by the spendthrift breezeI
And after that the Winter cold and drearA
So runs the perfect cycle of the yearA
And so from youth to manhood do we goC
And fall to weary days and locks of snowC
Love only knows no winter never diesI
Nor cares for frowning storms or leaden skiesI
And mine for thee shall never pass awayG
Though my weak lips may falter in my layG
-
Adieu Adieu yon silent evening starA
The night's ambassador doth gleam afarA
And bid the shepherd bring his flocks to foldG
Perchance before our inland seas of goldG
Are garnered by the reapers into sheavesI
Perchance before I see the Autumn leavesI
I may behold thy city and lay downB2
Low at thy feet the poet's laurel crownB2
-
Adieu Adieu yon silver lamp the moonB2
Which turns our midnight into perfect noonB2
Doth surely light thy towers guarding wellC
Where Dante sleeps where Byron loved to dwellC

Oscar Wilde



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