Stars Over The Dordogne Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis
Rhyme Scheme: ABCADECC CFGEHIDC BJKLMNON PCADQQRC CJSTUUCV| Stars are dropping thick as stones into the twiggy | A |
| Picket of trees whose silhouette is darker | B |
| Than the dark of the sky because it is quite starless | C |
| The woods are a well The stars drop silently | A |
| They seem large yet they drop and no gap is visible | D |
| Nor do they send up fires where they fall | E |
| Or any signal of distress or anxiousness | C |
| They are eaten immediately by the pines | C |
| - | |
| Where I am at home only the sparsest stars | C |
| Arrive at twilight and then after some effort | F |
| And they are wan dulled by much travelling | G |
| The smaller and more timid never arrive at all | E |
| But stay sitting far out in their own dust | H |
| They are orphans I cannot see them They are lost | I |
| But tonight they have discovered this river with no trouble | D |
| They are scrubbed and self assured as the great planets | C |
| - | |
| The Big Dipper is my only familiar | B |
| I miss Orion and Cassiopeia's Chair Maybe they are | J |
| Hanging shyly under the studded horizon | K |
| Like a child's too simple mathematical problem | L |
| Infinite number seems to be the issue up there | M |
| Or else they are present and their disguise so bright | N |
| I am overlooking them by looking too hard | O |
| Perhaps it is the season that is not right | N |
| - | |
| And what if the sky here is no different | P |
| And it is my eyes that have been sharpening themselves | C |
| Such a luxury of stars would embarrass me | A |
| The few I am used to are plain and durable | D |
| I think they would not wish for this dressy backcloth | Q |
| Or much company or the mildness of the south | Q |
| They are too puritan and solitary for that | R |
| When one of them falls it leaves a space | C |
| - | |
| A sense of absence in its old shining place | C |
| And where I lie now back to my own dark star | J |
| I see those constellations in my head | S |
| Unwarmed by the sweet air of this peach orchard | T |
| There is too much ease here these stars treat me too well | U |
| On this hill with its view of lit castles each swung bell | U |
| Is accounting for its cow I shut my eyes | C |
| And drink the small night chill like news of home | V |
Sylvia Plath
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