The Collector Cleans His Picture Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis
Rhyme Scheme: A BBCDEFGFG BGHBIBBIJBK IIILBBJFJIEJ GBMNBNFGEFili hominis ecce ego tollo a te desiderabile oculorum tuorom in plaga EZECH xxiv | A |
- | |
How I remember cleaning that strange picture | B |
I had been deep in duty for my sick neighbour | B |
His besides my own over several Sundays | C |
Often too in the week so with parish pressures | D |
Baptisms burials doctorings conjugal counsel | E |
All the whatnots asked of a rural parson | F |
Faith I was well nigh broken should have been fully | G |
Saving for one small secret relaxation | F |
One that in mounting manhood had grown my hobby | G |
- | |
This was to delve at whiles for easel lumber | B |
Stowed in the backmost slums of a soon reached city | G |
Merely on chance to uncloak some worthy canvas | H |
Panel or plaque blacked blind by uncouth adventure | B |
Yet under all concealing a precious art feat | I |
Such I had found not yet My latest capture | B |
Came from the rooms of a trader in ancient house gear | B |
Who had no scent of beauty or soul for brushcraft | I |
Only a tittle cost it murked with grime films | J |
Gatherings of slow years thick varnished over | B |
Never a feature manifest of man's painting | K |
- | |
So one Saturday time ticking hard on midnight | I |
Ere an hour subserved I set me upon it | I |
Long with coiled up sleeves I cleaned and yet cleaned | I |
Till a first fresh spot a high light looked forth | L |
Then another like fair flesh and another | B |
Then a curve a nostril and next a finger | B |
Tapering shapely significantly pointing slantwise | J |
Flemish I said Nay Spanish But nay Italian | F |
Then meseemed it the guise of the ranker Venus | J |
Named of some Astarte of some Cotytto | I |
Down I knelt before it and kissed the panel | E |
Drunk with the lure of love's inhibited dreamings | J |
- | |
Till the dawn I rubbed when there gazed up at me | G |
A hag that had slowly emerged from under my hands there | B |
Pointing the slanted finger towards a bosom | M |
Eaten away of a rot from the lusts of a lifetime | N |
I could have ended myself in heart shook horror | B |
Stunned I sat till roused by a clear voiced bell chime | N |
Fresh and sweet as the dew fleece under my luthern | F |
It was the matin service calling to me | G |
From the adjacent steeple | E |
Thomas Hardy
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