Glove, The Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis
Rhyme Scheme: A BCAADDEEA FFFFF FF GGHHIIJJKKFFKKLLAAMM KKAAIIKFKKNLDDGGKKKK KKAAKKKKKKIIFFAAIIKK IIK KKKKGGFF AAIIAAKKAO AK GG IIKKFFFFAAKKAAKKK KKAAPPFFIIKKIIFFKKKK FFKKQQIIR QQF QQSSIIAAI KKAA RKAAFFAAQQQQIIAAA LL F| PETER RONSARD loquitur | A |
| - | |
| Heigho '' yawned one day King Francis | B |
| Distance all value enhances | C |
| When a man's busy why leisure | A |
| Strikes him as wonderful pleasure | A |
| 'Faith and at leisure once is he | D |
| Straightway he wants to be busy | D |
| Here we've got peace and aghast I'm | E |
| Caught thinking war the true pastime | E |
| Is there a reason in metre | A |
| Give us your speech master Peter '' | - |
| I who if mortal dare say so | F |
| Ne'er am at loss with my Naso | F |
| Sire '' I replied joys prove cloudlets | F |
| Men are the merest Ixions'' | F |
| Here the King whistled aloud Let's | F |
| Heigho go look at our lions '' | - |
| Such are the sorrowful chances | F |
| If you talk fine to King Francis | F |
| - | |
| And so to the courtyard proceeding | G |
| Our company Francis was leading | G |
| Increased by new followers tenfold | H |
| Before be arrived at the penfold | H |
| Lords ladies like clouds which bedizen | I |
| At sunset the western horizon | I |
| And Sir De Lorge pressed 'mid the foremost | J |
| With the dame he professed to adore most | J |
| Oh what a face One by fits eyed | K |
| Her and the horrible pitside | K |
| For the penfold surrounded a hollow | F |
| Which led where the eye scarce dared follow | F |
| And shelved to the chamber secluded | K |
| Where Bluebeard the great lion brooded | K |
| The King bailed his keeper an Arab | L |
| As glossy and black as a scarab | L |
| And bade him make sport and at once stir | A |
| Up and out of his den the old monster | A |
| They opened a hole in the wire work | M |
| Across it and dropped there a firework | M |
| And fled one's heart's beating redoubled | K |
| A pause while the pit's mouth was troubled | K |
| The blackness and silence so utter | A |
| By the firework's slow sparkling and sputter | A |
| Then earth in a sudden contortion | I |
| Gave out to our gaze her abortion | I |
| Such a brute Were I friend Clement Marot | K |
| Whose experience of nature's but narrow | F |
| And whose faculties move in no small mist | K |
| When he versifies David the Psalmist | K |
| I should study that brute to describe you | N |
| Illim Juda Leonem de Tribu | L |
| One's whole blood grew curdling and creepy | D |
| To see the black mane vast and heapy | D |
| The tail in the air stiff and straining | G |
| The wide eyes nor waxing nor waning | G |
| As over the barrier which bounded | K |
| His platform and us who surrounded | K |
| The barrier they reached and they rested | K |
| On space that might stand him in best stead | K |
| For who knew he thought what the amazement | K |
| The eruption of clatter and blaze meant | K |
| And if in this minute of wonder | A |
| No outlet 'mid lightning and thunder | A |
| Lay broad and his shackles all shivered | K |
| The lion at last was delivered | K |
| Ay that was the open sky o'erhead | K |
| And you saw by the flash on his forehead | K |
| By the hope in those eyes wide and steady | K |
| He was leagues in the desert already | K |
| Driving the flocks up the mountain | I |
| Or catlike couched hard by the fountain | I |
| To waylay the date gathering negress | F |
| So guarded he entrance or egress | F |
| How he stands '' quoth the King we may well swear | A |
| No novice we've won our spurs elsewhere | A |
| And so can afford the confession | I |
| We exercise wholesome discretion | I |
| In keeping aloof from his threshold | K |
| Once hold you those jaws want no fresh hold | K |
| Their first would too pleasantly purloin | I |
| The visitor's brisket or surloin | I |
| But who's he would prove so fool hardy | K |
| Not the best man of Marignan pardie '' | - |
| - | |
| The sentence no sooner was uttered | K |
| Than over the rails a glove flattered | K |
| Fell close to the lion and rested | K |
| The dame 'twas who flung it and jested | K |
| With life so De Lorge had been wooing | G |
| For months past he sat there pursuing | G |
| His suit weighing out with nonchalance | F |
| Fine speeches like gold from a balance | F |
| - | |
| Sound the trumpet no true knight's a tarrier | A |
| De Lorge made one leap at the barrier | A |
| Walked straight to the glove while the lion | I |
| Neer moved kept his far reaching eye on | I |
| The palm tree edged desert spring's sapphire | A |
| And the musky oiled skin of the Kaffir | A |
| Picked it up and as calmly retreated | K |
| Leaped back where the lady was seated | K |
| And full in the face of its owner | A |
| Flung the glove | O |
| - | |
| Your heart's queen you dethrone her | A |
| So should I '' cried the King 'twas mere vanity | K |
| Not love set that task to humanity '' | - |
| Lords and ladies alike turned with loathing | G |
| From such a proved wolf in sheep's clothing | G |
| - | |
| Not so I for I caught an expression | I |
| In her brow's undisturbed self possession | I |
| Amid the Court's scoffing and merriment | K |
| As if from no pleasing experiment | K |
| She rose yet of pain not much heedful | F |
| So long as the process was needful | F |
| As if she had tried in a crucible | F |
| To what speeches like gold'' were reducible | F |
| And finding the finest prove copper | A |
| Felt the smoke in her face was but proper | A |
| To know what she had not to trust to | K |
| Was worth all the ashes and dust too | K |
| She went out 'mid hooting and laughter | A |
| Clement Marot stayed I followed after | A |
| And asked as a grace what it all meant | K |
| If she wished not the rash deed's recalment | K |
| For I'' so I spoke am a poet | K |
| Human nature behoves that I know it '' | - |
| - | |
| She told me Too long had I heard | K |
| Of the deed proved alone by the word | K |
| For my love what De Lorge would not dare | A |
| With my scorn what De Lorge could compare | A |
| And the endless descriptions of death | P |
| He would brave when my lip formed a breath | P |
| I must reckon as braved or of course | F |
| Doubt his word and moreover perforce | F |
| For such gifts as no lady could spurn | I |
| Must offer my love in return | I |
| When I looked on your lion it brought | K |
| All the dangers at once to my thought | K |
| Encountered by all sorts of men | I |
| Before he was lodged in his den | I |
| From the poor slave whose club or bare hands | F |
| Dug the trap set the snare on the sands | F |
| With no King and no Court to applaud | K |
| By no shame should he shrink overawed | K |
| Yet to capture the creature made shift | K |
| That his rude boys might laugh at the gift | K |
| To the page who last leaped o'er the fence | F |
| Of the pit on no greater pretence | F |
| Than to get back the bonnet he dropped | K |
| Lest his pay for a week should be stopped | K |
| So wiser I judged it to make | Q |
| One trial what death for my sake' | Q |
| Really meant while the power was yet mine | I |
| Than to wait until time should define | I |
| Such a phrase not so simply as I | R |
| Who took it to mean just to die ' | - |
| The blow a glove gives is but weak | Q |
| Does the mark yet discolour my cheek | Q |
| But when the heart suffers a blow | F |
| Will the pain pass so soon do you know '' | - |
| - | |
| I looked as away she was sweeping | Q |
| And saw a youth eagerly keeping | Q |
| As close as he dared to the doorway | S |
| No doubt that a noble should more weigh | S |
| His life than befits a plebeian | I |
| And yet had our brute been Nemean | I |
| I judge by a certain calm fervour | A |
| The youth stepped with forward to serve her | A |
| He'd have scarce thought you did him the worst turn | I |
| If you whispered Friend what you'd get first earn '' | - |
| And when shortly after she carried | K |
| Her shame from the Court and they married | K |
| To that marriage some happiness maugre | A |
| The voice of the Court I dared augur | A |
| - | |
| For De Lorge he made women with men vie | R |
| Those in wonder and praise these in envy | K |
| And in short stood so plain a head taller | A |
| That he wooed and won how do you call her | A |
| The beauty that rose in the sequel | F |
| To the King's love who loved her a week well | F |
| And 'twas noticed he never would honour | A |
| De Lorge who looked daggers upon her | A |
| With the easy commission of stretching | Q |
| His legs in the service and fetching | Q |
| His wife from her chamber those straying | Q |
| Sad gloves she was always mislaying | Q |
| While the King took the closet to chat in | I |
| But of course this adventure came pat in | I |
| And never the King told the story | A |
| How bringing a glove brought such glory | A |
| But the wife smiled His nerves are grown firmer | A |
| Mine he brings now and utters no murmur '' | - |
| - | |
| Venienti occurrite morbo | L |
| With which moral I drop my theorbo | L |
| - | |
| A beetle | F |
Robert Browning
(1)
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