Waring Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis
Rhyme Scheme: A BCBCDD CBCBEEEEFGFHIII JJKKLLMLMLKKNBNBNBKK OOOPPBNNBKKKBBQRKKKE EKENNNNKKEENPPNKK SSSNNNNKNNKKKNPNKPK NNIINNNMMTTINNIUUVUI VUIWIXIBIYYIIAEEZA2Z NNB2NC2BNBBBNSESSILI LLIID2D2PBPBE2E2IBIB NSNSF2F2F2A2A2A2G2BG 2BNNPPPBH2BH2BH2BH2I 2I2J2J2IINNNN A BBBB NNNNNNIPIIPNNNNIBINB I I BNNBNBBNNIIJ2J2NK2LK 2LNSNSSSSI | A |
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What's become of Waring | B |
Since he gave us all the slip | C |
Chose land travel or seafaring | B |
Boots and chest or staff and scrip | C |
Rather than pace up and down | D |
Any longer London town | D |
- | |
Who'd have guessed it from his lip | C |
Or his brow's accustomed bearing | B |
On the night he thus took ship | C |
Or started landward little caring | B |
For us it seems who supped together | E |
Friends of his too I remember | E |
And walked home through the merry weather | E |
The snowiest in all December | E |
I left his arm that night myself | F |
For what's his name's the new prose poet | G |
That wrote the book there on the shelf | F |
How forsooth was I to know it | H |
If Waring meant to glide away | I |
Like a ghost at break of day | I |
Never looked he half so gay | I |
- | |
He was prouder than the devil | J |
How he must have cursed our revel | J |
Ay and many other meetings | K |
Indoor visits outdoor greetings | K |
As up and down he paced this London | L |
With no work done but great works undone | L |
Where scarce twenty knew his name | M |
Why not then have earlier spoken | L |
Written bustled Who's to blame | M |
If your silence kept unbroken | L |
True but there were sundry jottings | K |
Stray leaves fragments blurrs and blottings | K |
Certain first steps were achieved | N |
Already which is that your meaning | B |
Had well borne out whoe'er believed | N |
In more to come But who goes gleaning | B |
Hedge side chance blades while full sheaved | N |
Stand cornfields by him Pride o'erweening | B |
Pride alone puts forth such claims | K |
O'er the day's distinguished names | K |
- | |
Meantime how much I loved him | O |
I find out now I've lost him | O |
I who cared not if I moved him | O |
Henceforth never shall get free | P |
Of his ghostly company | P |
His eyes that just a little wink | B |
As deep I go into the merit | N |
Of this and that distinguished spirit | N |
His cheeks' raised colour soon to sink | B |
As long I dwell on some stupendous | K |
And tremendous Heaven defend us | K |
Monstr' inform' ingens horrend ous | K |
Demoniaco seraphic | B |
Penman's latest piece of graphic | B |
Nay my very wrist grows warm | Q |
With his dragging weight of arm | R |
E'en so swimmingly appears | K |
Through one's after supper musings | K |
Some lost Lady of old years | K |
With her beauteous vain endeavour | E |
And goodness unrepaid as ever | E |
The face accustomed to refusings | K |
We puppies that we were Oh never | E |
Surely nice of conscience scrupled | N |
Being aught like false forsooth to | N |
Telling aught but honest truth to | N |
What a sin had we centupled | N |
Its possessor's grace and sweetness | K |
No she heard in its completeness | K |
Truth for truth's a weighty matter | E |
And truth at issue we can't flatter | E |
Well 'tis done with she's exempt | N |
From damning us through such a sally | P |
And so she glides as down a valley | P |
Taking up with her contempt | N |
Past our reach and in the flowers | K |
Shut her unregarded hours | K |
- | |
- | |
Oh could I have him back once more | S |
This Waring but one half day more | S |
Back with the quiet face of yore | S |
So hungry for acknowledgment | N |
Like mine I'd fool him to his bent | N |
Feed should not he to heart's content | N |
I'd say to only have conceived | N |
Your great works though they ne'er make progress | K |
Surpasses all we've yet achieved | N |
I'd lie so I should be believed | N |
I'd make such havoc of the claims | K |
Of the day's distinguished names | K |
To feast him with as feasts an ogress | K |
Her sharp toothed golden crowned child | N |
Or as one feasts a creature rarely | P |
Captured here unreconciled | N |
To capture and completely gives | K |
Its pettish humours licence barely | P |
Requiring that it lives | K |
- | |
Ichabod Ichabod | N |
The glory is departed | N |
Travels Waring East away | I |
Who of knowledge by hearsay | I |
Reports a man upstarted | N |
Somewhere as a God | N |
Hordes grown European hearted | N |
Millions of the wild made tame | M |
On a sudden at his fame | M |
In Vishnu land what Avatar | T |
Or who in Moscow toward the Czar | T |
With the demurest of footfalls | I |
Over the Kremlin's pavement bright | N |
With serpentine and syenite | N |
Steps with five other generals | I |
That simultaneously take snuff | U |
For each to have pretext enough | U |
To kerchiefwise unfurl his sash | V |
Which softness' self is yet the stuff | U |
To hold fast where a steel chain snaps | I |
And leave the grand white neck no gash | V |
Waring in Moscow to those rough | U |
Cold northern natures borne perhaps | I |
Like the lambwhite maiden dear | W |
From the circle of mute kings | I |
Unable to repress the tear | X |
Each as his sceptre down he flings | I |
To Dian's fane at Taurica | B |
Where now a captive priestess she alway | I |
Mingles her tender grave Hellenic speech | Y |
With theirs tuned to the hailstone beaten beach | Y |
As pours some pigeon from the myrrhy lands | I |
Rapt by the whirlblast to fierce Scythian strands | I |
Where bred the swallows her melodious cry | A |
Amid their barbarous twitter | E |
In Russia Never Spain were fitter | E |
Ay most likely 'tis in Spain | Z |
That we and Waring meet again | A2 |
Now while he turns down that cool narrow lane | Z |
Into the blackness out of grave Madrid | N |
All fire and shine abrupt as when there's slid | N |
Its stiff gold blazing pall | B2 |
From some black coffin lid | N |
Or best of all | C2 |
I love to think | B |
The leaving us was just a feint | N |
Back here to London did he slink | B |
And now works on without a wink | B |
Of sleep and we are on the brink | B |
Of something great in fresco paint | N |
Some garret's ceiling walls and floor | S |
Up and down and o'er and o'er | E |
He splashes as none splashed before | S |
Since great Caldara Polidore | S |
Or Music means this land of ours | I |
Some favour yet to pity won | L |
By Purcell from his Rosy Bowers | I |
Give me my so long promised son | L |
Let Waring end what I begun | L |
Then down he creeps and out he steals | I |
Only when the night conceals | I |
His face in Kent 'tis cherry time | D2 |
Or hops are picking or at prime | D2 |
Of March he wanders as too happy | P |
Years ago when he was young | B |
Some mild eve when woods grew sappy | P |
And the early moths had sprung | B |
To life from many a trembling sheath | E2 |
Woven the warm boughs beneath | E2 |
While small birds said to themselves | I |
What should soon be actual song | B |
And young gnats by tens and twelves | I |
Made as if they were the throng | B |
That crowd around and carry aloft | N |
The sound they have nursed so sweet and pure | S |
Out of a myriad noises soft | N |
Into a tone that can endure | S |
Amid the noise of a July noon | F2 |
When all God's creatures crave their boon | F2 |
All at once and all in tune | F2 |
And get it happy as Waring then | A2 |
Having first within his ken | A2 |
What a man might do with men | A2 |
And far too glad in the even glow | G2 |
To mix with your world he meant to take | B |
Into his hand he told you so | G2 |
And out of it his world to make | B |
To contract and to expand | N |
As he shut or oped his hand | N |
Oh Waring what's to really be | P |
A clear stage and a crowd to see | P |
Some Garrick say out shall not he | P |
The heart of Hamlet's mystery pluck | B |
Or where most unclean beasts are rife | H2 |
Some Junius am I right shall tuck | B |
His sleeve and out with flaying knife | H2 |
Some Chatterton shall have the luck | B |
Of calling Rowley into life | H2 |
Some one shall somehow run amuck | B |
With this old world for want of strife | H2 |
Sound asleep contrive contrive | I2 |
To rouse us Waring Who's alive | I2 |
Our men scarce seem in earnest now | J2 |
Distinguished names but 'tis somehow | J2 |
As if they played at being names | I |
Still more distinguished like the games | I |
Of children Turn our sport to earnest | N |
With a visage of the sternest | N |
Bring the real times back confessed | N |
Still better than our very best | N |
- | |
II | A |
- | |
When I last saw Waring | B |
How all turned to him who spoke | B |
You saw Waring Truth or joke | B |
In land travel or seafaring | B |
- | |
We were sailing by Triest | N |
Where a day or two we harboured | N |
A sunset was in the West | N |
When looking over the vessel's side | N |
One of our company espied | N |
A sudden speck to larboard | N |
And as a sea duck flies and swins | I |
At once so came the light craft up | P |
With its sole lateen sail that trims | I |
And turns the water round its rims | I |
Dancing as round a sinking cup | P |
And by us like a fish it curled | N |
And drew itself up close beside | N |
Its great sail on the instant furled | N |
And o'er its planks a shrill voice cried | N |
A neck as bronzed as a Lascar's | I |
'Buy wine of us you English Brig | B |
Or fruit tobacco and cigars | I |
A Pilot for you to Triest | N |
Without one look you ne'er so big | B |
They'll never let you up the bay | I |
We natives should know best ' | - |
I turned and 'just those fellows' way ' | - |
Our captain said 'The long shore thieves | I |
Are laughing at us in their sleeves ' | - |
- | |
In truth the boy leaned laughing back | B |
And one half hidden by his side | N |
Under the furled sail soon I spied | N |
With great grass hat and kerchief black | B |
Who looked up with his kingly throat | N |
Said somewhat while the other shook | B |
His hair back from his eyes to look | B |
Their longest at us then the boat | N |
I know not how turned sharply round | N |
Laying her whole side on the sea | I |
As a leaping fish does from the lee | I |
Into the weather cut somehow | J2 |
Her sparkling path beneath our bow | J2 |
And so went off as with a bound | N |
Into the rose and golden half | K2 |
Of the sky to overtake the sun | L |
And reach the shore like the sea calf | K2 |
Its singing cave yet I caught one | L |
Glance ere away the boat quite passed | N |
And neither time nor toil could mar | S |
Those features so I saw the last | N |
Of Waring You Oh never star | S |
Was lost here but it rose afar | S |
Look East where whole new thousands are | S |
In Vishnu land what Avatar | S |
Robert Browning
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