Music's Duel Poem Rhyme Scheme

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Now westward Sol had spent the richest beams	A
Of noon's high glory when hard by the streams	A
Of Tiber on the scene of a green plat	B
Under protection of an oak there sat	B
A sweet lute's master in whose gentle airs	C
He lost the day's heat and his own hot cares	C
Close in the covert of the leaves there stood	B
A nightingale come from the neighbouring wood	B
The sweet inhabitant of each glad tree	D
Their muse their Syren harmless Syren she	D
There stood she list'ning and did entertain	E
The music's soft report and mould the same	F
In her own murmurs that what ever mood	B
His curious fingers lent her voice made good	B
The man preceived his rival and her art	B
Disposed to give the light foot lady sport	B
Awakes his lute and 'gainst the fight to come	G
Informs it in a sweet	B
pr ludium	G
	-
Of closer strains and ere the war begin	H
He slightly skirmishes on every string	I
Charged with a flying touch and staightway she	D
Carves out her dainty voice as readily	D
Into a thousand sweet distinguish'd tones	J
And reckons up in soft divisions	K
Quick volumes of wild notes to let him know	L
By that shrill taste she could do something too	B
His nimble hand's instinct then taught each string	I
A cap'ring cheerfulness and made them sing	I
To their own dance now negligently rash	M
He throws his arm and with a long drawn dash	M
Blends all together then distinctly trips	N
From this to that then quick returning skips	N
And snatches this again and pauses there	O
She measures every measure everywhere	O
Meets art with art sometimes as if in doubt	B
Not perfect yet and fearing to be out	B
Trails her plain ditty in one long spun note	B
Through the sleek passage of her open throat	B
A clear unwrinkled song then doth she point it	B
With tender accents and severely joint it	B
By short diminutives that being rear'd	B
In controverting warbles evenly shared	B
With her sweet self she wrangles he amazed	B
That from so small a channel should be raised	B
The torrent of a voice whose melody	D
Could melt into such sweet variety	D
Strains higher yet that tickled with rare art	B
The tattling strings each breathing in his part	B
Most kindly do fall out the grumbling base	P
In surly groans disdains the treble's grace	P
The high perch'd treble chirps at this and chides	Q
Until his finger moderator hides	Q
And closes the sweet quarrel rousing all	R
Hoarse shrill at once as when the trumpets call	R
Hot Mars to th' harvest of death's field and woo	B
Men's hearts into their hands this lesson too	B
She gives him back her supple breast thrills out	B
Sharp airs and staggers in a warbling doubt	B
Of dallying sweetness hovers o'er her skill	S
And folds in waved notes with a trembling bill	S
The pliant series of her slippery song	T
Then starts she suddenly into a throng	T
Of short thick sobs whose thundring volleys float	B
And roll themselves over her lubric throat	B
In panting murmurs 'still'd out of her breast	B
That ever bubbling spring the sugar'd nest	B
Of her delicious soul that there does lie	U
Bathing in streams of liquid melody	D
Music's best seed plot when in ripen'd airs	C
A golden headed harvest fairly rears	V
His honey dropping tops plough'd by her breath	W
Which there reciprocally laboureth	W
In that sweet soil it seems a holy quire	X
Founded to th' name of great Apollo's lyre	X
Whose silver roof rings with the sprightly notes	Y
Of sweet lipp'd angel imps that swill their throats	Y
In cream of morning Helicon and then	Z
Prefer soft anthems to the ears of men	Z
To woo them from their beds still murmuring	I
That men can sleep while they their matins sing	I
Most divine service whose so early lay	A2
Prevents the eyelids of the blushing day	A2
There might you hear her kindle her soft voice	B2
In the close murmur of a sparkling noise	C2
And lay the ground work of her hopeful song	T
Still keeping in the forward stream so long	T
Till a sweet whirlwind striving to get out	B
Heaves her soft bosom wanders round about	B
And makes a pretty earthquake in her breast	B
Till the fledged notes at length forsake their nest	B
Fluttering in wanton shoals and to the sky	U
Wing'd with their own wild echos pratt'ling fly	U
She opes the floodgate and lets loose a tide	B
Of streaming sweetness which in state doth ride	B
On the waved back of every swelling strain	E
Rising and falling in a pompous train	E
And while she thus discharges a shrill peal	D2
Of flashing airs she qualifies their zeal	D2
With the cool epode of a graver note	B
Thus high thus low as if her silver throat	B
Would reach the brazen voice of war's hoarse bird	B
Her little soul is ravish'd and so pour'd	B
Into loose ecstasies that she is placed	B
Above herself music's enthusiast	B
Shame now and anger mixed a double stain	E
In the musician's face yet once again	Z
Mistress I come Now reach a strain my lute	B
Above her mock or be for ever mute	B
Or tune a song of victory to me	D
Or to thyself sing thine own obsequy	U
So said his hands sprightly as fire he flings	E2
And with a quivering coyness tastes the strings	E2
The sweet lipp'd sisters musically frighted	B
Singing their fears are fearfully delighted	B
Trembling as when Apollo's golden hairs	C
Are fann'd and frizzled in the wanton airs	C
Of his own breath which married to his lyre	X
Doth tune the spheres and make heaven's self look higher	F2
From this to that from that to this he flies	G2
Feels music's pulse in all her arteries	H2
Caught in a net which there Apollo spreads	I2
His fingers struggle with the vocal threads	I2
Following those little rills he sinks into	B
A sea of Helicon his hand does go	U
Those parts of sweetness which with nectar drop	J2
Softer than that which pants in Hebe's cup	K2
The humourous strings expound his learn d touch	L2
By various glosses now they seem to grutch	L2
And murmur in a buzzing din then gingle	D2
In shrill tongued accents striving to be single	D2
Every smooth turn every delicious stroke	U
Gives life to some new grace thus doth he invoke	U
Sweetness by all her names thus bravely thus	M2
Fraught with a fury so harmonious	M2
The lute's light Genius now does proudly rise	G2
Heaved on the surges of swoll'n rhapsodies	G2
Whose flourish meteor like doth curl the air	O
With flash of high born fancies here and there	O
Dancing in lofty measures and anon	Z
Creeps on the soft touch of a tender tone	Z
Whose trembling murmurs melting in wild airs	G2
Runs to and fro complaining his sweet cares	G2
Because those precious mysteries that dwell	D2
In music's ravish'd soul he dare not tell	D2
But whisper to the world thus do they vary	D
Each string his note as if they meant to carry	D
Their master's blest soul snatch'd out at his ears	G2
By a strong ecstacy through all the spheres	G2
Of music's heaven and seat it there on high	U
In th'	W
empyr um	G
of pure harmony	D
At length after so long so loud a strife	N2
Of all the strings still breathing the best life	N2
Of blest variety attending on	Z
His fingers' fairest revolution	Z
In many a sweet rise many as sweet a fall	D2
A full mouth'd diapason swallows all	D2
This done he lists what she would say to this	G2
And she although her breath's late exercise	G2
Had dealt too roughly with her tender throat	B
Yet summons all her sweet powers for a note	B
Alas in vain for while sweet soul she tries	G2
To measure all those wild diversities	G2
Of chatt'ring strings by the small size of one	Z
Poor simple voice raised in a natural tone	Z
She fails and failing grieves and grieving dies	G2
She dies and leaves her life the victor's prize	G2
Falling upon his lute O fit to have	O2
That lived so sweetly dead so sweet a grave	P2

Richard Crashaw

Music's Duel Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis

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