Letter To Maria Gisborne Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis
Rhyme Scheme: AABBCDEEFFGGAA HHHHIIIJJKKKHHLLHHMM KKNNOOFFHHKKPPHHHQQR RSSKKTRHHUUIIVVWWXAH HYYHHHHRRPZKKXXAAA2A 2B2C2FFXAKKYYD2D2 XAHHE2F2HHHHKKAAG2G2 RRH2H2UUAAI2I2 WJ2AAK2K2L2 RRM2H2AAAADDHHAALLAA GGK2K2K2K2AAN2YH2H2H HK2K2HHAAHHKKHHAYTTF A| The spider spreads her webs whether she be | A |
| In poet's tower cellar or barn or tree | A |
| The silk worm in the dark green mulberry leaves | B |
| His winding sheet and cradle ever weaves | B |
| So I a thing whom moralists call worm | C |
| Sit spinning still round this decaying form | D |
| From the fine threads of rare and subtle thought | E |
| No net of words in garish colours wrought | E |
| To catch the idle buzzers of the day | F |
| But a soft cell where when that fades away | F |
| Memory may clothe in wings my living name | G |
| And feed it with the asphodels of fame | G |
| Which in those hearts which must remember me | A |
| Grow making love an immortality | A |
| - | |
| - | |
| Whoever should behold me now I wist | H |
| Would think I were a mighty mechanist | H |
| Bent with sublime Archimedean art | H |
| To breathe a soul into the iron heart | H |
| Of some machine portentous or strange gin | I |
| Which by the force of figured spells might win | I |
| Its way over the sea and sport therein | I |
| For round the walls are hung dread engines such | J |
| As Vulcan never wrought for Jove to clutch | J |
| Ixion or the Titan or the quick | K |
| Wit of that man of God St Dominic | K |
| To convince Atheist Turk or Heretic | K |
| Or those in philanthropic council met | H |
| Who thought to pay some interest for the debt | H |
| They owed to Jesus Christ for their salvation | L |
| By giving a faint foretaste of damnation | L |
| To Shakespeare Sidney Spenser and the rest | H |
| Who made our land an island of the blest | H |
| When lamp like Spain who now relumes her fire | M |
| On Freedom's hearth grew dim with Empire | M |
| With thumbscrews wheels with tooth and spike and jag | K |
| Which fishers found under the utmost crag | K |
| Of Cornwall and the storm encompassed isles | N |
| Where to the sky the rude sea rarely smiles | N |
| Unless in treacherous wrath as on the morn | O |
| When the exulting elements in scorn | O |
| Satiated with destroyed destruction lay | F |
| Sleeping in beauty on their mangled prey | F |
| As panthers sleep and other strange and dread | H |
| Magical forms the brick floor overspread | H |
| Proteus transformed to metal did not make | K |
| More figures or more strange nor did he take | K |
| Such shapes of unintelligible brass | P |
| Or heap himself in such a horrid mass | P |
| Of tin and iron not to be understood | H |
| And forms of unimaginable wood | H |
| To puzzle Tubal Cain and all his brood | H |
| Great screws and cones and wheels and groov d blocks | Q |
| The elements of what will stand the shocks | Q |
| Of wave and wind and time Upon the table | R |
| More knacks and quips there be than I am able | R |
| To catalogize in this verse of mine | S |
| A pretty bowl of wood not full of wine | S |
| But quicksilver that dew which the gnomes drink | K |
| When at their subterranean toil they swink | K |
| Pledging the demons of the earthquake who | T |
| Reply to them in lava cry halloo | R |
| And call out to the cities o'er their head | H |
| Roofs towers and shrines the dying and the dead | H |
| Crash through the chinks of earth and then all quaff | U |
| Another rouse and hold their sides and laugh | U |
| This quicksilver no gnome has drunk within | I |
| The walnut bowl it lies vein d and thin | I |
| In colour like the wake of light that stains | V |
| The Tuscan deep when from the moist moon rains | V |
| The inmost shower of its white fire the breeze | W |
| Is still blue Heaven smiles over the pale seas | W |
| And in this bowl of quicksilver for I | X |
| Yield to the impulse of an infancy | A |
| Outlasting manhood I have made to float | H |
| A rude idealism of a paper boat | H |
| A hollow screw with cogs Henry will know | Y |
| The thing I mean and laugh at me if so | Y |
| He fears not I should do more mischief Next | H |
| Lie bills and calculations much perplexed | H |
| With steam boats frigates and machinery quaint | H |
| Traced over them in blue and yellow paint | H |
| Then comes a range of mathematical | R |
| Instruments for plans nautical and statical | R |
| A heap of rosin a queer broken glass | P |
| With ink in it a china cup that was | Z |
| What it will never be again I think | K |
| A thing from which sweet lips were wont to drink | K |
| The liquor doctors rail at and which I | X |
| Will quaff in spite of them and when we die | X |
| We'll toss up who died first of drinking tea | A |
| And cry out 'Heads or tails ' where'er we be | A |
| Near that a dusty paint box some odd hooks | A2 |
| A half burnt match an ivory block three books | A2 |
| Where conic sections spherics logarithms | B2 |
| To great Laplace from Saunderson and Sims | C2 |
| Lie heaped in their harmonious disarray | F |
| Of figures disentangle them who may | F |
| Baron de Tott's Memoirs beside them lie | X |
| And some odd volumes of old chemistry | A |
| Near those a most inexplicable thing | K |
| With lead in the middle I'm conjecturing | K |
| How to make Henry understand but no | Y |
| I'll leave as Spenser says with many mo | Y |
| This secret in the pregnant womb of time | D2 |
| Too vast a matter for so weak a rhyme | D2 |
| - | |
| - | |
| And here like some weird Archimage sit I | X |
| Plotting dark spells and devilish enginery | A |
| The self impelling steam wheels of the mind | H |
| Which pump up oaths from clergymen and grind | H |
| The gentle spirit of our meek reviews | E2 |
| Into a powdery foam of salt abuse | F2 |
| Ruffling the ocean of their self content | H |
| I sit and smile or sigh as is my bent | H |
| But not for them Libeccio rushes round | H |
| With an inconstant and an idle sound | H |
| I heed him more than them the thunder smoke | K |
| Is gathering on the mountains like a cloak | K |
| Folded athwart their shoulders broad and bare | A |
| The ripe corn under the undulating air | A |
| Undulates like an ocean and the vines | G2 |
| Are trembling wide in all their trellised lines | G2 |
| The murmur of the awakening sea doth fill | R |
| The empty pauses of the blast the hill | R |
| Looks hoary through the white electric rain | H2 |
| And from the glens beyond in sullen strain | H2 |
| The interrupted thunder howls above | U |
| One chasm of Heaven smiles like the eye of Love | U |
| On the unquiet world while such things are | A |
| How could one worth your friendship heed the war | A |
| Of worms the shriek of the world's carrion jays | I2 |
| Their censure or their wonder or their praise | I2 |
| - | |
| - | |
| You are not here the quaint witch Memory sees | W |
| In vacant chairs your absent images | J2 |
| And points where once you sat and now should be | A |
| But are not I demand if ever we | A |
| Shall meet as then we met and she replies | K2 |
| Veiling in awe her second sighted eyes | K2 |
| 'I know the past alone but summon home | L2 |
| My sister Hope she speaks of all to come ' | - |
| But I an old diviner who knew well | R |
| Every false verse of that sweet oracle | R |
| Turned to the sad enchantress once again | M2 |
| And sought a respite from my gentle pain | H2 |
| In citing every passage o'er and o'er | A |
| Of our communion how on the sea shore | A |
| We watched the ocean and the sky together | A |
| Under the roof of blue Italian weather | A |
| How I ran home through last year's thunder storm | D |
| And felt the transverse lightning linger warm | D |
| Upon my cheek and how we often made | H |
| Feasts for each other where good will outweighed | H |
| The frugal luxury of our country cheer | A |
| As well it might were it less firm and clear | A |
| Than ours must ever be and how we spun | L |
| A shroud of talk to hide us from the sun | L |
| Of this familiar life which seems to be | A |
| But is not or is but quaint mockery | A |
| Of all we would believe and sadly blame | G |
| The jarring and inexplicable frame | G |
| Of this wrong world and then anatomize | K2 |
| The purposes and thoughts of men whose eyes | K2 |
| Were closed in distant years or widely guess | K2 |
| The issue of the earth's great business | K2 |
| When we shall be as we no longer are | A |
| Like babbling gossips safe who hear the war | A |
| Of winds and sigh but tremble not or how | N2 |
| You listened to some interrupted flow | Y |
| Of visionary rhyme in joy and pain | H2 |
| Struck from the inmost fountains of my brain | H2 |
| With little skill perhaps or how we sought | H |
| Those deepest wells of passion or of thought | H |
| Wrought by wise poets in the waste of years | K2 |
| Staining their sacred waters with our tears | K2 |
| Quenching a thirst ever to be renewed | H |
| Or how I wisest lady then endued | H |
| The language of a land which now is free | A |
| And winged with thoughts of truth and majesty | A |
| Flits round the tyrant's sceptre like a cloud | H |
| And bursts the peopled prisons and cries aloud | H |
| 'My name is Legion ' that majestic tongue | K |
| Which Calderon over the desert flung | K |
| Of ages and of nations and which found | H |
| An echo in our hearts and with the sound | H |
| Startled oblivion thou wert then to me | A |
| As is a nurse when inarticulately | Y |
| A child would talk as its grown parents do | T |
| If living winds the rapid clouds pursue | T |
| If hawks chase doves through the aethereal way | F |
| Huntsmen the innocent dee | A |
Percy Bysshe Shelley
(1)
Poem topics: , Print This Poem , Rhyme Scheme
Submit Spanish Translation
Submit German Translation
Submit French Translation
About Letter To Maria Gisborne
Letter To Maria Gisborne is a poem by Percy Bysshe Shelley. This page includes the poem text, poet information, related topics, comments, and similar poems.
Write your comment about Letter To Maria Gisborne poem by Percy Bysshe Shelley
Best Poems of Percy Bysshe Shelley
