The Maniac Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis

Rhyme Scheme: AABBCCDDEEFFGGHHIIJK LLMMDDNNOO PPQQRRSSTTUUA VVHHWW

On a tall cliff that overhung the deepA
A maniac stood He heeded not the sweepA
Of the swift gale that lashed the troubled mainB
And spread with showery foam the watery plainB
His reckless foot was on the dizzy lineC
That edged the rock impending o'er the brineC
His form was bent and leaning from the heightD
Like the light gull whose wing is stretched for flightD
Far down beneath his feet the surges brokeE
Above his head the pealing thunders spokeE
Around him flashed the lightning's ruddy glareF
And rushing torrents swept along the airF
But nought he heeded save a gallant sailG
That on the sea was wrestling with the galeG
Far on the ocean's billowy verge she hungH
And strove to shun the storm that landward swungH
With many a tack she turned her bending sideI
To the rude blast and bravely stemmed the tideI
In vain the bootless strife with fate is o'erJ
And the doomed vessel nears the iron shoreK
A mighty bird she seems whose wing is rentL
By the red shaft from heaven's fierce quiver sentL
Her mast is shivered and her helm is lashedM
Around her prow the kindled waves are dashedM
And as an eagle swooping in its mightD
Toward the dark cliff she speeds her headlong flightD
She comes she strikes the trembling wave withdrawsN
And the hushed elements a moment pauseN
Then swelling high above their helpless preyO
The billows burst and bear the wreck awayO
-
One look to heaven the raptured Maniac castP
One low breathed murmur from his bosom passedP
'God of the soul and sea I read thy choiceQ
Told by the shipwreck and the whirlwind's voiceQ
In this dread omen I can trace my doomR
And hear thee bid me seek an ocean tombR
Like the lost ship my weary mind hath strivenS
With the wild tempest o'er my spirit drivenS
That strife is done and the dim caverned seaT
Of this wrecked bosom must the mansion beT
Thou who canst bid the billows cease to rollU
Oh smooth a pillow for my weary soulU
Watch o'er the pilgrim in his shadowy sleepA
And send sweet dreams to light the sullen deep '-
-
Thus spoke the maniac while above he gazedV
And his pale hands beseechingly upraisedV
Then on the viewless wind he swiftly sprungH
And far below his senseless form was flungH
A thin white spray told where he met the waveW
And battling surges thunder o'er his graveW

Sam G. Goodrich



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