To A Skylark Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis

Rhyme Scheme: ABCDD EDEDD FGFGG HDGDD IJIJK KDKDD DLDLL GDGDD GEGEE GDGDD DMDNM OPOQP DGDGG RDRDD SGSGG SLSLD TUTUU EDEDD GJGKJ SDSDD SGSGG

Hail to thee blithe SpiritA
Bird thou never wertB
That from heaven or near itC
Pourest thy full heartD
In profuse strains of unpremeditated artD
-
Higher still and higherE
From the earth thou springestD
Like a cloud of fireE
The blue deep thou wingestD
And singing still dost soar and soaring ever singestD
-
In the golden lightningF
Of the sunken sunG
O'er which clouds are bright'ningF
Thou dost float and runG
Like an unbodied joy whose race is just begunG
-
The pale purple evenH
Melts around thy flightD
Like a star of heavenG
In the broad daylightD
Thou art unseen but yet I hear thy shrill delightD
-
Keen as are the arrowsI
Of that silver sphereJ
Whose intense lamp narrowsI
In the white dawn clearJ
Until we hardly see we feel that it is thereK
-
All the earth and airK
With thy voice is loudD
As when night is bareK
From one lonely cloudD
The moon rains out her beams and heaven is overflowedD
-
What thou art we know notD
What is most like theeL
From rainbow clouds there flow notD
Drops so bright to seeL
As from thy presence showers a rain of melodyL
-
Like a poet hiddenG
In the light of thoughtD
Singing hymns unbiddenG
Till the world is wroughtD
To sympathy with hopes and fears it heeded notD
-
Like a high born maidenG
In a palace towerE
Soothing her love ladenG
Soul in secret hourE
With music sweet as love which overflows her bowerE
-
Like a glow worm goldenG
In a dell of dewD
Scattering unbeholdenG
Its aerial hueD
Among the flowers and grass which screen it from the viewD
-
Like a rose emboweredD
In its own green leavesM
By warm winds defloweredD
Till the scent it givesN
Makes faint with too much sweet these heavy winged thievesM
-
Sound of vernal showersO
On the twinkling grassP
Rain awakened flowersO
All that ever wasQ
Joyous and clear and fresh thy music doth surpassP
-
Teach us sprite or birdD
What sweet thoughts are thineG
I have never heardD
Praise of love or wineG
That panted forth a flood of rapture so divineG
-
Chorus hymenealR
Or triumphal chauntD
Matched with thine would be allR
But an empty vauntD
A thing wherein we feel there is some hidden wantD
-
What objects are the fountainsS
Of thy happy strainG
What fields or waves or mountainsS
What shapes of sky or plainG
What love of thine own kind what ignorance of painG
-
With thy clear keen joyanceS
Languor cannot beL
Shadow of annoyanceS
Never came near theeL
Thou lovest but ne'er knew love's sad satietyD
-
Waking or asleepT
Thou of death must deemU
Things more true and deepT
Than we mortals dreamU
Or how could thy notes flow in such a crystal streamU
-
We look before and afterE
And pine for what is notD
Our sincerest laughterE
With some pain is fraughtD
Our sweetest songs are those that tell of saddest thoughtD
-
Yet if we could scornG
Hate and pride and fearJ
If we were things bornG
Not to shed a tearK
I know not how thy joy we ever should come nearJ
-
Better than all measuresS
Of delightful soundD
Better than all treasuresS
That in books are foundD
Thy skill to poet were thou scorner of the groundD
-
Teach me half the gladnessS
That thy brain must knowG
Such harmonious madnessS
From my lips would flowG
The world should listen then as I am listening nowG

Percy Bysshe Shelley



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