Matilda Gathering Flowers Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis

Rhyme Scheme: ABA BCB CDE FGD HIH IAJ AKA FLK LMJ MNM NON OPO PQP RFR FSF STU TUV

And earnest to explore within aroundA
The divine wood whose thick green living woofB
Tempered the young day to the sight I woundA
-
Up the green slope beneath the forest s roofB
With slow soft steps leaving the mountain s steepC
And sought those inmost labyrinths motion proofB
-
Against the air that in that stillness deepC
And solemn struck upon my forehead bareD
The slow soft stroke of a continuousE
-
In which the leaves tremblingly wereF
All bent towards that part where earliestG
The sacred hill obscures the morning airD
-
Yet were they not so shaken from the restH
But that the birds perched on the utmost sprayI
Incessantly renewing their blithe questH
-
With perfect joy received the early dayI
Singing within the glancing leaves whose soundA
Kept a low burden to their roundelayJ
-
Such as from bough to bough gathers aroundA
The pine forest on bleak Chiassi s shoreK
When Aeolus Sirocco has unboundA
-
My slow steps had already borne me o erF
Such space within the antique wood that IL
Perceived not where I entered any moreK
-
When lo a stream whose little waves went byL
Bending towards the left through grass that grewM
Upon its bank impeded suddenlyJ
-
My going on Water of purest hueM
On earth would appear turbid and impureN
Compared with this whose unconcealing dewM
-
Dark dark yet clear moved under the obscureN
Eternal shades whose interwoven loomsO
The rays of moon or sunlight ne er endureN
-
I moved not with my feet but mid the gloomsO
Pierced with my charmed eye contemplatingP
The mighty multitude of fresh May bloomsO
-
Which starred that night when even as a thingP
That suddenly for blank astonishmentQ
Charms every sense and makes all thought take wingP
-
A solitary woman and she wentR
Singing and gathering flower after flowerF
With which her way was painted and besprentR
-
Bright lady who if looks had ever powerF
To bear true witness of the heart withinS
Dost bask under the beams of love come lowerF
-
Towards this bank I prithee let me winS
This much of thee to come that I may hearT
Thy song like Proserpine in Enna s glenU
-
Thou seemest to my fancy singing hereT
And gathering flowers as that fair maiden whenU
She lost the Spring and Ceres her more dearV

Percy Bysshe Shelley



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