Marmion: Introduction To Canto I Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis

Rhyme Scheme: AABBCCAADDEEFF GGHHIIAAJJKKLLMMNNOO PP QQAARST AALLUUTT VVWXYYZZLLA2A2B2B2C2 C2 D2D2E2E2BJUUAA F2G2AAA2A2E2E2AAE2E2 JJH2H2A2A2 AAI2I2J2J2JJK2K2LL J2J2J2J2J2J2J2J2A2A2 J2J2J2J2AAA E2E2L2C2J2J2J2J2JJLL E2E2J2J2A2A2M2M2N2N2 J J2J2J2J2K2K2E2E2J2J2 J2J2E2E2J2J2 J2J2A2A2AAJ2J2JJE2E2 E2E2A2A2JJJ2J2AAJ2J2 E2E2C2C2J A2A2A2A2JJC2C2M2M2 LLJ2J2AAJ2J2LLE2A2J2 J2M2

November's sky is chill and drearA
November's leaf is red and searA
Late gazing down the steepy linnB
That hems our little garden inB
Low in its dark and narrow glenC
You scarce the rivulet might kenC
So thick the tangled greenwood grewA
So feeble thrilled the streamlet throughA
Now murmuring hoarse and frequent seenD
Through bush and briar no longer greenD
An angry brook it sweeps the gladeE
Brawls over rock and wild cascadeE
And foaming brown with doubled speedF
Hurries its waters to the TweedF
-
No longer Autumn's glowing redG
Upon our forest hills is shedG
No more beneath the evening beamH
Fair Tweed reflects their purple gleamH
Away hath passed the heather bellI
That bloomed so rich on Needpath FellI
Sallow his brow and russet bareA
Are now the sister heights of YairA
The sheep before the pinching heavenJ
To sheltered dale and down are drivenJ
Where yet some faded herbage pinesK
And yet a watery sunbeam shinesK
In meek despondency they eyeL
The withered sward and wintry skyL
And far beneath their summer hillM
Stray sadly by Glenkinnon's rillM
The shepherd shifts his mantle's foldN
And wraps him closer from the coldN
His dogs no merry circles wheelO
But shivering follow at his heelO
A cowering glance they often castP
As deeper moans the gathering blastP
-
My imps though hardy bold and wildQ
As best befits the mountain childQ
Feel the sad influence of the hourA
And wail the daisy's vanished flowerA
Their summer gambols tell and mournR
And anxious ask 'Will spring returnS
And birds and lambs again be gayT
And blossoms clothe the hawthorn spray '-
-
Yes prattlers yes The daisy's flowerA
Again shall paint your summer bowerA
Again the hawthorn shall supplyL
The garlands you delight to tieL
The lambs upon the lea shall boundU
The wild birds carol to the roundU
And while you frolic light as theyT
Too short shall seem the summer dayT
-
To mute and to material thingsV
New life revolving summer bringsV
The genial call dead Nature hearsW
And in her glory reappearsX
But oh my country's wintry stateY
What second spring shall renovateY
What powerful call shall bid ariseZ
The buried warlike and the wiseZ
The mind that thought for Britain's wealL
The hand that grasped the victor steelL
The vernal sun new life bestowsA2
Even on the meanest flower that blowsA2
But vainly vainly may he shineB2
Where glory weeps o'er Nelson's shrineB2
And vainly pierce the solemn gloomC2
That shrouds O Pitt thy hallowed tombC2
-
Deep graved in every British heartD2
Oh never let those names departD2
Say to your sons Lo here his graveE2
Who victor died on Gadite waveE2
To him as to the burning levinB
Short bright resistless course was givenJ
Where'er his country's foes were foundU
Was heard the fated thunder's soundU
Till burst the bolt on yonder shoreA
Rolled blazed destroyed and was no moreA
-
Nor mourn ye less his perished worthF2
Who bade the conqueror go forthG2
And launched that thunderbolt of warA
On Egypt Hafnia TrafalgarA
Who born to guide such high emprizeA2
For Britain's weal was early wiseA2
Alas to whom the Almighty gaveE2
For Britain's sins an early graveE2
His worth who in his mightiest hourA
A bauble held the pride of powerA
Spurned at the sordid lust of pelfE2
And served his Albion for herselfE2
Who when the frantic crowd amainJ
Strained at subjection's bursting reinJ
O'er their wild mood full conquest gainedH2
The pride he would not crush restrainedH2
Showed their fierce zeal a worthier causeA2
And brought the freeman's arm to aid the freeman's lawsA2
-
Hadst thou but lived though stripped of powerA
A watchman on the lonely towerA
Thy thrilling trump had roused the landI2
When fraud or danger were at handI2
By thee as by the beacon lightJ2
Our pilots had kept course arightJ2
As some proud column though aloneJ
Thy strength had propped the tottering throneJ
Now is the stately column brokeK2
The beacon light is quenched in smokeK2
The trumpet's silver sound is stillL
The warder silent on the hillL
-
Oh think how to his latest dayJ2
When Death just hovering claimed his preyJ2
With Palinure's unaltered moodJ2
Firm at his dangerous post he stoodJ2
Each call for needful rest repelledJ2
With dying hand the rudder heldJ2
Till in his fall with fateful swayJ2
The steerage of the realm gave wayJ2
Then while on Britain's thousand plainsA2
One unpolluted church remainsA2
Whose peaceful bells ne'er sent aroundJ2
The bloody tocsin's maddening soundJ2
But still upon the hallowed dayJ2
Convoke the swains to praise and prayJ2
While faith and civil peace are dearA
Grace this cold marble with a tearA
He who preserved them Pitt lies hereA
-
Nor yet suppress the generous sighE2
Because his rival slumbers nighE2
Nor be thy requiescat dumbL2
Lest it be said o'er Fox's tombC2
For talents mourn untimely lostJ2
When best employed and wanted mostJ2
Mourn genius high and lore profoundJ2
And wit that loved to play not woundJ2
And all the reasoning powers divineJ
To penetrate resolve combineJ
And feelings keen and fancy's glowL
They sleep with him who sleeps belowL
And if thou mourn'st they could not saveE2
From error him who owns this graveE2
Be every harsher thought suppressedJ2
And sacred be the last long restJ2
HERE where the end of earthly thingsA2
Lays heroes patriots bards and kingsA2
Where stiff the hand and still the tongueM2
Of those who fought and spoke and sungM2
HERE where the fretted aisles prolongN2
The distant notes of holy songN2
As if some angel spoke againJ
'All peace on earth goodwill to men '-
If ever from an English heartJ2
Oh HERE let prejudice departJ2
And partial feeling cast asideJ2
Record that Fox a Briton diedJ2
When Europe crouched to France's yokeK2
And Austria bent and Prussia brokeK2
And the firm Russian's purpose braveE2
Was bartered by a timorous slaveE2
Even then dishonour's peace he spurnedJ2
The sullied olive branch returnedJ2
Stood for his country's glory fastJ2
And nailed her colours to the mastJ2
Heaven to reward his firmness gaveE2
A portion in this honoured graveE2
And ne'er held marble in its trustJ2
Of two such wondrous men the dustJ2
-
With more than mortal powers endowedJ2
How high they soared above the crowdJ2
Theirs was no common party raceA2
Jostling by dark intrigue for placeA2
Like fabled gods their mighty warA
Shook realms and nations in its jarA
Beneath each banner proud to standJ2
Looked up the noblest of the landJ2
Till through the British world were knownJ
The names of Pitt and Fox aloneJ
Spells of such force no wizard graveE2
E'er framed in dark Thessalian caveE2
Though his could drain the ocean dryE2
And force the planets from the skyE2
These spells are spent and spent with theseA2
The wine of life is on the leesA2
Genius and taste and talent goneJ
For ever tombed beneath the stoneJ
Where taming thought to human prideJ2
The mighty chiefs sleep side by sideJ2
Drop upon Fox's grave the tearA
'Twill trickle to his rival's bierA
O'er Pitt's the mournful requiem soundJ2
And Fox's shall the notes reboundJ2
The solemn echo seems to cryE2
'Here let their discord with them dieE2
Speak not for those a separate doomC2
Whom Fate made brothers in the tombC2
But search the land of living menJ
Where wilt thou find their like again '-
-
Rest ardent spirits till the criesA2
Of dying Nature bid you riseA2
Not even your Britain's groans can pierceA2
The leaden silence of your hearseA2
Then oh how impotent and vainJ
This grateful tributary strainJ
Though not unmarked from northern climeC2
Ye heard the Border minstrel's rhymeC2
His Gothic harp has o'er you rungM2
The bard you deigned to praise your deathless names has sungM2
-
Stay yet illusion stay a whileL
My wildered fancy still beguileL
From this high theme how can I partJ2
Ere half unloaded is my heartJ2
For all the tears e'er sorrow drewA
And all the raptures fancy knewA
And all the keener rush of bloodJ2
That throbs through bard in bardlike moodJ2
Were here a tribute mean and lowL
Though all their mingled streams could flowL
Woe wonder and sensation highE2
In one spring tide of ecstasyA2
It will not be it may not lastJ2
The vision of enchantment's pastJ2
Like frostworkM2

Sir Walter Scott



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