Garden-fancies - I. The Flower's Name Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis

Rhyme Scheme: A BCBCDEDE A FGFGHAHA A IJIJGKGK L MGMGGNGN L OPOPQRQR L SLSLGTGT

IA
-
Here's the garden she walked acrossB
Arm in my arm such a short while sinceC
Hark now I push its wicket the mossB
Hinders the hinges and makes them winceC
She must have reached this shrub ere she turnedD
As back with that murmur the wicket swungE
For she laid the poor snail my chance foot spurnedD
To feed and forget it the leaves amongE
-
IIA
-
Down this side ofthe gravel walkF
She went while her robe's edge brushed the boxG
And here she paused in her gracious talkF
To point me a moth on the milk white floxG
Roses ranged in valiant rowH
I will never think that she passed you byA
She loves you noble roses I knowH
But yonder see where the rock plants lieA
-
IIIA
-
This flower she stopped at finger on lipI
Stooped over in doubt as settling its claimJ
Till she gave me with pride to make no slipI
Its soft meandering Spanish nameJ
What a name Was it love or praiseG
Speech half asleep or song half awakeK
I must learn Spanish one of these daysG
Only for that slow sweet name's sakeK
-
IVL
-
Roses if I live and do wellM
I may bring her one of these daysG
To fix you fast with as fine a spellM
Fit you each with his Spanish phraseG
But do not detain me now for she lingersG
There like sunshine over the groundN
And ever I see her soft white fingersG
Searching after the bud she foundN
-
VL
-
Flower you Spaniard look that you grow notO
Stay as you are and be loved for everP
Bud if I kiss you 'tis that you blow notO
Mind the shut pink mouth opens neverP
For while it pouts her fingers wrestleQ
Twinkling the audacious leaves betweenR
Till round they turn and down they nestleQ
Is not the dear mark still to be seenR
-
VIL
-
Where I find her not beauties vanishS
Whither I follow her beauties fleeL
Is there no method to tell her in SpanishS
June's twice June since she breathed it with meL
Come bud show me the least of her tracesG
Treasure my lady's lightest footfallT
Ah you may flout and turn up your facesG
Roses you are not so fair after allT

Robert Browning



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