Stanzas Written In Dejection, Near Naples Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis
Rhyme Scheme: ABCDCCECEE AFGFGGGGGG AHIHIIJIJJ KLMLDDNDNN NOGOGGPGPPI | A |
The sun is warm the sky is clear | B |
The waves are dancing fast and bright | C |
Blue isles and snowy mountains wear | D |
The purple noon's transparent might | C |
The breath of the moist earth is light | C |
Around its unexpanded buds | E |
Like many a voice of one delight | C |
The winds the birds the ocean floods | E |
The city's voice itself is soft like Solitude's | E |
- | |
II | A |
I see the deep's untrampled floor | F |
With green and purple seaweeds strown | G |
I see the waves upon the shore | F |
Like light dissolved in star showers thrown | G |
I sit upon the sands alone | G |
The lightning of the noontide ocean | G |
Is flashing round me and a tone | G |
Arises from its measured motion | G |
How sweet did any heart now share in my emotion | G |
- | |
III | A |
Alas I have nor hope nor health | H |
Nor peace within nor calm around | I |
Nor that content surpassing wealth | H |
The sage in meditation found | I |
And walked with inward glory crowned | I |
Nor fame nor power nor love nor leisure | J |
Others I see whom these surround | I |
Smiling they live and call life pleasure | J |
To me that cup has been dealt in another measure | J |
- | |
IV | K |
Yet now despair itself is mild | L |
Even as the winds and waters are | M |
I could lie down like a tired child | L |
And weep away the life of care | D |
Which I have born and yet must bear | D |
Till death like sleep might steal on me | N |
And I might feel in the warm air | D |
My cheek grow cold and hear the sea | N |
Breathe o'er my dying brain its last monotony | N |
- | |
V | N |
Some might lament that I were cold | O |
As I when this sweet day is gone | G |
Which my lost heart too soon grown old | O |
Insults with this untimely moan | G |
They might lament for I am one | G |
Whom men love not and yet regret | P |
Unlike this day which when the sun | G |
Shall on its stainless glory set | P |
Will linger though enjoyed like joy in memory yet | P |
Percy Bysshe Shelley
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