An Autumn Mood Poem Rhyme Scheme

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Pile the pyre light the fire there is fuel enough and to spare	A
You have fire enough and to spare with your madness and gladness	B
Burn the old year it is dead and dead and done	C
There is something under the sun that I cannot bear	A
I cannot bear this sadness under the sun	C
I cannot bear this sun upon all this sadness	B
Here on this prophecy here on this leafless log	D
Log upon log and leafless on leafless I sit	E
Yes Beauty I see thee yes I see but I will not rejoice	B
Down down wild heart down down thou hungry dog	D
That dost but leap and gaze with a want thou canst not utter	F
Down down I know the ill but where is the cure	G
Moor and stubble and mist stubble and mist and moor	G
Here on the turf that will feel the snows a vanishing flutter	F
Of bells that are ringing farewells	B
And overhead from a branch that will soon be bare	A
Is it a falling leaf that disturbs my blood like a voice	B
Or is it an autumn bird that answers the evening light	H
The evening light on stubble and moor and mist	I
And pallid woods and the pale sweet hamlets of dying men	J
Oh autumn bird I also will speak as I list	I
Oh woods oh fields oh trees oh hill and glen	J
You who have seen my glory you who wist	I
How I have walked the mornings of delight	H
Myself a morning summer'd through and lit	E
With light and summer as the sunny dew	K
With sun you saw me then	J
You see me now oh hear my heart and answer it	E
Where is the Nevermore and the land of the Yesterdays	B
Aye	L
Where are Youth and Joy the dew and the honey dew	K
The day of the rose and the night of the nightingale	M
Where	A
Where are the sights and the sounds that shall ne'er and shall e'er	F
Come again	J
Once more I have cried my cry once more in vain	N
I have listen'd once more for a moment the ancient pain	N
Is less though I know that the year is dead and done	C
Once more I bear	A
Under the sun the sadness over the sadness the sun	C
Bear I have borne I shall bear But what is a man	O
That his soul should be seen and heard in the trees and flow'rs of the field	P
Have I tinctured them mortal or doth their mortality yield	P
Me like a fragrance of autumn Ah passion of Eve	Q
Ah Eve of my passion which is it that aches to complain	N
Oh old old Minstrelsy oh wafty winds of Romaunt	P
Blow me your harps My sick soul cannot weave	Q
These gossamers of feeling that remain	N
To any string whereon its ill may grieve	Q
Blow me your harps harp wind harp dulcimer	F
Citerne bataunt	P
And mandolin and each string'd woe	R
Of the sweet olden world and let them blow	R
By me as in sea streams the sea gods see	B
The streaming streaming hair	A
Of drown d girls and every sorrowy sin	S
O' the sea	B
And so let them blow out the din	S
Of daylight and blow in	S
With legendary song	T
Of buried maids	B
The evening shades	B
And when the thronging harps and all	U
The murmurings of wild wind harps	B
Are still	V
And shimmer of dim dulcimer	F
And thrill of trill'd citerne	S
And plaint of quaint bataunt and throb of long	T
Long silent mandolin	S
And every other sound that grieves	B
Hath dropt into its colour on the leaves	B
In the silence let me hear	W
The round and heavy tear	A
Of orchards fall	U
And as I listen let the air unseen	S
Be stirr'd with words	B
Let the ripe husk of what is gape open and shed	P
What has been	S
Through click of gates and the games	B
Of the living village at play	X
Let me hear forgotten names	B
Of ancient day	X
Down like a drop of rain from the evening sky	L
Let somewhat be said	P
Up from the pool like a bubble let something reply	L
In the tongue of the dead	P
Through the swallows that fly their last	P
Round the grey spire of the past	P
In the faded elms by the height	P
Let the last hour of light	P
Strike and the yellow chimes	B
Forget and remember	F
A dream of other times	B
And above let the rocks be warm with the mystical day that is not	P
To day or to morrow	R
And from the nest in the rock let me hear the croon	S
Of orphan doves that yearn	S
For the wings that will never return	S
And below the rocks on the grassy slopes and scarps	B
Let the tender flowering flame of the exquisite crocus of sorrow	R
Sadden the green of the grass to the pathos of gentle September	F
And below the slopes and scarps where the strangled rill	V
Blackens to rot	P
Let the unrest of the troublous hour	F
Blossom on through the night and the running flow'r	Y
O' the fatuous fire flicker and flicker and flare	A
Through the aimless dark of disaster the aimless light of despair	A
And meantime let the serious evening star	Y
Contemplative enlarge her slow pale brow'd	P
Regard until she shake	Z
With tears and sudden snatch a hasty cloud	P
To hide whate'er in those pure realms afar	Y
Is likest human sadness and full soon	S
Let night begin to slake	Z
The west and many headed darkness peer	A2
From every copse and brake	Z
While from a cottage nigh	L
Where the poor candle of dull Poverty	B
May barely serve to show	R
Her stony privilege of woe	R
Or if like her it try	L
To leave the cabin'd precincts of its lot	P
Steals trembling forth to struggle and expire	B2
A milkless babe that shall not see the morn	S
Starves to the fretted ear	W
With lullaby and lullaby	L
And rocking shadow to and fro	R
Athwart the lattice low	R
And from yon western ridge black as the bier	W
Of day let a faint far off horn	S
Mourning across the ravish'd fields forlorn	S
Sound like a streak of sunset seen through the grief of the moon	S
And further yet from the slant of the seaward plain	S
The bleating and lowing of many voic d flocks and herds	B
Forced from their fields mix on the morning breeze	B
With sob of seas	B
Till the long rising wind be high	L
And from the distant main	S
A gale sweep up the vale and on the gale a wail	M
Of shipwreck fill and fail	M
Fail and fill fill and fail like a sinking sinking sail	M
In the rain	S
But ere all this to us let the dim smoke rise	B
To us from the nearest field from the nearest pyre	F
Of stubbled corn let the dim smoke rise and let	P
The fire that loosens the stubble corn	S
Loose the soul like smoke and let tears in the eyes	B
Confuse the passionate sense till the heart forget	P
Whether we be the world or whether the fading world be	B
We	B

Sydney Thompson Dobell

An Autumn Mood Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis

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