The Titmouse Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis
Rhyme Scheme: AAAABBCCDEAAFFGGHHAA AA IIJJAAKKL AAAAAAMMNN OONNNNNNNAABBNNPPQRS T UGVVWWXXYYZZA AAA2A2AAB2B2IIAAIIWW AAAAC2NNNWA2| You shall not be overbold | A |
| When you deal with arctic cold | A |
| As late I found my lukewarm blood | A |
| Chilled wading in the snow choked wood | A |
| How should I fight my foeman fine | B |
| Has million arms to one of mine | B |
| East west for aid I looked in vain | C |
| East west north south are his domain | C |
| Miles off three dangerous miles is home | D |
| Must borrow his winds who there would come | E |
| Up and away for life be fleet | A |
| The frost king ties my fumbling feet | A |
| Sings in my ears my hands are stones | F |
| Curdles the blood to the marble bones | F |
| Tugs at the heart strings numbs the sense | G |
| And hems in life with narrowing fence | G |
| Well in this broad bed lie and sleep | H |
| The punctual stars will vigil keep | H |
| Embalmed by purifying cold | A |
| The winds shall sing their dead march old | A |
| The snow is no ignoble shroud | A |
| The moon thy mourner and the cloud | A |
| - | |
| Softly but this way fate was pointing | I |
| 'T was coming fast to such anointing | I |
| When piped a tiny voice hard by | J |
| Gay and polite a cheerful cry | J |
| Chic chicadeedee saucy note | A |
| Out of sound heart and merry throat | A |
| As if it said 'Good day good sir | K |
| Fine afternoon old passenger | K |
| Happy to meet you in these places | L |
| Where January brings few faces ' | - |
| - | |
| This poet though he live apart | A |
| Moved by his hospitable heart | A |
| Sped when I passed his sylvan fort | A |
| To do the honours of his court | A |
| As fits a feathered lord of land | A |
| Flew near with soft wing grazed my hand | A |
| Hopped on the bough then darting low | M |
| Prints his small impress on the snow | M |
| Shows feats of his gymnastic play | N |
| Head downward clinging to the spray | N |
| - | |
| Here was this atom in full breath | O |
| Hurling defiance at vast death | O |
| This scrap of valour just for play | N |
| Fronts the north wind in waistcoat gray | N |
| As if to shame my weak behaviour | N |
| I greeted loud my little saviour | N |
| 'You pet what dost here and what for | N |
| In these woods thy small Labrador | N |
| At this pinch wee San Salvador | N |
| What fire burns in that little chest | A |
| So frolic stout and self possest | A |
| Henceforth I wear no stripe but thine | B |
| Ashes and jet all hues outshine | B |
| Why are not diamonds black and gray | N |
| To ape thy dare devil array | N |
| And I affirm the spacious North | P |
| Exists to draw thy virtue forth | P |
| I think no virtue goes with size | Q |
| The reason of all cowardice | R |
| Is that men are overgrown | S |
| And to be valiant must come down | T |
| To the titmouse dimension ' | - |
| - | |
| 'T is good will makes intelligence | U |
| And I began to catch the sense | G |
| Of my bird's song 'Live out of doors | V |
| In the great woods on prairie floors | V |
| I dine in the sun when he sinks in the sea | W |
| I too have a hole in a hollow tree | W |
| And I like less when Summer beats | X |
| With stifling beams on these retreats | X |
| Than noontide twilights which snow makes | Y |
| With tempest of the blinding flakes | Y |
| For well the soul if stout within | Z |
| Can arm impregnably the skin | Z |
| And polar frost my frame defied | A |
| Made of the air that blows outside ' | - |
| - | |
| With glad remembrance of my debt | A |
| I homeward turn farewell my pet | A |
| When here again thy pilgrim comes | A2 |
| He shall bring store of seeds and crumbs | A2 |
| Doubt not so long as earth has bread | A |
| Thou first and foremost shalt be fed | A |
| The Providence that is most large | B2 |
| Takes hearts like thine in special charge | B2 |
| Helps who for their own need are strong | I |
| And the sky dotes on cheerful song | I |
| Henceforth I prize thy wiry chant | A |
| O'er all that mass and minster vaunt | A |
| For men mis hear thy call in spring | I |
| As 't would accost some frivolous wing | I |
| Crying out of the hazel copse Phe be | W |
| And in winter Chic a dee dee | W |
| I think old Caesar must have heard | A |
| In northern Gaul my dauntless bird | A |
| And echoed in some frosty wold | A |
| Borrowed thy battle numbers bold | A |
| And I will write our annals new | C2 |
| And thank thee for a better clew | N |
| I who dreamed not when I came here | N |
| To find the antidote of fear | N |
| Now hear thee say in Roman key | W |
| Paean Veni vidi vici | A2 |
Ralph Waldo Emerson
(1)
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About The Titmouse
The Titmouse is a poem by Ralph Waldo Emerson. This page includes the poem text, poet information, related topics, comments, and similar poems.
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