A Singer Asleep Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis

Rhyme Scheme: A BCCB DAADEE CCFFF GHIII JIIJJ KKLMML NOONNO PAAAPA L LLLLLLLL Q

Algernon Charles SwinburneA
-
-
-
I-
-
In this fair niche above the unslumbering seaB
That sentrys up and down all night all dayC
From cove to promontory from ness to bayC
The Fates have fitly bidden that he should be Pillowed eternallyB
-
II-
-
It was as though a garland of red rosesD
Had fallen about the hood of some smug nunA
When irresponsibly dropped as from the sunA
In fulth of numbers freaked with musical closesD
Upon Victoria's formal middle timeE
His leaves of rhythm and rhymeE
-
III-
-
O that far morning of a summer dayC
When down a terraced street whose pavements layC
Glassing the sunshine into my bent eyesF
I walked and read with a quick glad surpriseF
New words in classic guiseF
-
IV-
-
The passionate pages of his earlier yearsG
Fraught with hot sighs sad laughters kisses tearsH
Fresh fluted notes yet from a minstrel whoI
Blew them not naively but as one who knewI
Full well why thus he blewI
-
V-
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I still can hear the brabble and the roarJ
At those thy tunes O still one now passed throughI
That fitful fire of tongues then entered newI
Their power is spent like spindrift on this shoreJ
Thine swells yet more and moreJ
-
VI-
-
His singing mistress verily was no otherK
Than she the Lesbian she the music motherK
Of all the tribe that feel in melodiesL
Who leapt love anguished from the Leucadian steepM
Into the rambling world encircling deepM
Which hides her where none seesL
-
VII-
-
And one can hold in thought that nightly hereN
His phantom may draw down to the water's brimO
And hers come up to meet it as a dimO
Lone shine upon the heaving hydrosphereN
And mariners wonder as they traverse nearN
Unknowing of her and himO
-
VIII-
-
One dreams him sighing to her spectral formP
O teacher where lies hid thy burning lineA
Where are those songs O poetess divineA
Whose very arts are love incarnadineA
And her smile back Disciple true and warmP
Sufficient now are thineA
-
IXL
-
So here beneath the waking constellationsL
Where the waves peal their everlasting strainsL
And their dull subterrene reverberationsL
Shake him when storms make mountains of their plainsL
Him once their peer in sad improvisationsL
And deft as wind to cleave their frothy manesL
I leave him while the daylight gleam declinesL
Upon the capes and chinesL
-
BONCHURCHQ

Thomas Hardy



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