Young Love Ii - "i Make This Rhyme Of My Lady And Me" Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis

Rhyme Scheme: AABBCCDD EEFFGFHHIIGFJJAA KKBBLLMNONOPGFPQQFRR FCOAABB SSTTUUVVWW

I make this rhyme of my lady and meA
To give me ease of my miseryA
Of my lady and me I make this rhymeB
For lovers in the after timeB
And I weave its warp from day to dayC
In a golden loom deep hid awayC
In my secret heart where no one goesD
But my lady's self and no one knowsD
-
With bended head all day I poreE
On a joyless task and yet beforeE
My eyes all day through each weary hourF
Breathes my lady's face like a dewy flowerF
Like rain it comes through the dusty airG
Like sun on the meadows to think of herF
O sweet as violets in early springH
The flower girls to the city bringH
O healing bright to wintry eyesI
As primrose gold 'neath northern skiesI
But O for fit thing to compareG
With the joy I have in the thought of herF
So all day long doth her holy faceJ
Bring fragrance to the barren placeJ
And whensoe'er it comes nearest meA
My loom it weaveth busilyA
-
Some days there be when the loom is stillK
And my soul is sad as an autumn hillK
But how to tell the blessed timeB
When my heart is one glowing prayer of rhymeB
Think on the humming afternoonL
Within some busy wood in JuneL
When nettle patches drunk with the sunM
Are fiery outposts of the shadeN
While gnats keep up a dizzy reelO
And the grasshopper perched upon his bladeN
Loud drones his fairy threshing wheelO
Hour when some poet wit might feignP
The drowsy tune of the throbbing airG
The weaving of the gossamerF
In secret nooks of wood and laneP
The gossamer silk night robes of the flowersQ
Fluttered apart by amorous morning hoursQ
Yea as the weaving of the gossamerF
If truly that the mystic golden boomR
Is the strange rapture of my hidden loomR
As I sit in the light of the thought of herF
And it weaveth weaveth day by dayC
This parti coloured roundelayO
Weaving for ease of miseryA
Weaving this rhyme of my lady and meA
Weaving weaving this warp of rhymeB
For lovers in the after timeB
-
My lady lover may never be mineS
In the same sweet way that thine is thineS
My lady and I may never standT
By the holy altar hand in handT
My lady and I may never restU
Through the golden midnight breast to breastU
Nor share long days of happy lightV
Sweet moving in each other's sightV
Yea even must we ever missW
The honey of the chastest kissW

Richard Le Gallienne



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