Under The Waterfall Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis

Rhyme Scheme: AABBCCDDEEFFGGGH CCI JJKKGGLLMMNNOOEEGGPO CCQQOO GGRRN

'Whenever I plunge my arm like thisA
In a basin of water I never missA
The sweet sharp sense of a fugitive dayB
Fetched back from its thickening shroud of grayB
Hence the only primeC
And real love rhymeC
That I know by heartD
And that leaves no smartD
Is the purl of a little valley fallE
About three spans wide and two spans tallE
Over a table of solid rockF
And into a scoop of the self same blockF
The purl of a runlet that never ceasesG
In stir of kingdoms in wars in peacesG
With a hollow boiling voice it speaksG
And has spoken since hills were turfless peaks 'H
-
'And why gives this the only primeC
Idea to you of a real love rhymeC
And why does plunging your arm in a bowlI
Full of spring water bring throbs to your soul '-
-
'Well under the fall in a crease of the stoneJ
Though precisely where none ever has knownJ
Jammed darkly nothing to show how prizedK
And by now with its smoothness opalizedK
Is a grinking glassG
For down that passG
My lover and IL
Walked under a skyL
Of blue with a leaf wove awning of greenM
In the burn of August to paint the sceneM
And we placed our basket of fruit and wineN
By the runlet's rim where we sat to dineN
And when we had drunk from the glass togetherO
Arched by the oak copse from the weatherO
I held the vessel to rinse in the fallE
Where it slipped and it sank and was past recallE
Though we stooped and plumbed the little abyssG
With long bared arms There the glass still isG
And as said if I thrust my arm belowP
Cold water in a basin or bowl a throeO
From the past awakens a sense of that timeC
And the glass we used and the cascade's rhymeC
The basin seems the pool and its edgeQ
The hard smooth face of the brook side ledgeQ
And the leafy pattern of china wareO
The hanging plants that were bathing thereO
-
'By night by day when it shines or loursG
There lies intact that chalice of oursG
And its presence adds to the rhyme of loveR
Persistently sung by the fall aboveR
No lip has touched it since his and mineN
In turns therefrom sipped lovers' wine '-

Thomas Hardy



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