Ode To Melancholy Poem Rhyme Scheme

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Come let us set our careful breasts	A
Like Philomel against the thorn	B
To aggravate the inward grief	C
That makes her accents so forlorn	B
The world has many cruel points	D
Whereby our bosoms have been torn	B
And there are dainty themes of grief	C
In sadness to outlast the morn	B
True honor's dearth affection's death	E
Neglectful pride and cankering scorn	B
With all the piteous tales that tears	F
Have water'd since the world was born	B
	-
The world it is a wilderness	G
Where tears are hung on every tree	H
For thus my gloomy phantasy	G
Makes all things weep with me	H
Come let us sit and watch the sky	I
And fancy clouds where no clouds be	H
Grief is enough to blot the eye	I
And make heaven black with misery	H
Why should birds sing such merry notes	G
Unless they were more blest than we	H
No sorrow ever chokes their throats	G
Except sweet nightingale for she	H
Was born to pain our hearts the more	J
With her sad melody	H
Why shines the Sun except that he	H
Makes gloomy nooks for Grief to hide	K
And pensive shades for Melancholy	H
When all the earth is bright beside	K
Let clay wear smiles and green grass wave	L
Mirth shall not win us back again	M
Whilst man is made of his own grave	L
And fairest clouds but gilded rain	N
	-
I saw my mother in her shroud	O
Her cheek was cold and very pale	P
And ever since I've look'd on all	Q
As creatures doom'd to fail	P
Why do buds ope except to die	I
Ay let us watch the roses wither	R
And think of our loves' cheeks	G
And oh how quickly time doth fly	I
To bring death's winter hither	R
Minutes hours days and weeks	G
Months years and ages shrink to nought	I
An age past is but a thought	I
	-
Ay let us think of Him awhile	S
That with a coffin for a boat	I
Rows daily o'er the Stygian moat	I
And for our table choose a tomb	T
There's dark enough in any skull	U
To charge with black a raven plume	T
And for the saddest funeral thoughts	G
A winding sheet hath ample room	T
Where Death with his keen pointed style	S
Hath writ the common doom	T
How wide the yew tree spreads its gloom	T
And o'er the dead lets fall its dew	I
As if in tears it wept for them	V
The many human families	G
That sleep around its stem	V
	-
How cold the dead have made these stones	G
With natural drops kept ever wet	I
Lo here the best the worst the world	I
Doth now remember or forget	I
Are in one common ruin hurl'd	I
And love and hate are calmly met	I
The loveliest eyes that ever shone	W
The fairest hands and locks of jet	I
Is't not enough to vex our souls	G
And fill our eyes that we have set	I
Our love upon a rose's leaf	C
Our hearts upon a violet	I
Blue eyes red cheeks are frailer yet	I
And sometimes at their swift decay	X
Beforehand we must fret	I
The roses bud and bloom again	M
But Love may haunt the grave of Love	Y
And watch the mould in vain	N
	-
O clasp me sweet whilst thou art mine	Z
And do not take my tears amiss	G
For tears must flow to wash away	X
A thought that shows so stern as this	G
Forgive if somewhile I forget	I
In woe to come the present bliss	G
As frighted Proserpine let fall	Q
Her flowers at the sight of Dis	G
Ev'n so the dark and bright will kiss	G
The sunniest things throw sternest shade	I
And there is ev'n a happiness	G
That makes the heart afraid	I
	-
Now let us with a spell invoke	A2
The full orb'd moon to grieve our eyes	G
Not bright not bright but with a cloud	I
Lapp'd all about her let her rise	G
All pale and dim as if from rest	I
The ghost of the late buried sun	B2
Had crept into the skies	G
The Moon she is the source of sighs	G
The very face to make us sad	I
If but to think in other times	G
The same calm quiet look she had	I
As if the world held nothing base	G
Of vile and mean of fierce and bad	I
The same fair light that shone in streams	G
The fairy lamp that charmed the lad	I
For so it is with spent delights	G
She taunts men's brains and makes them mad	I
	-
All things are touch'd with Melancholy	H
Born of the secret soul's mistrust	I
To feel her fair ethereal wings	G
Weigh'd down with vile degraded dust	I
Even the bright extremes of joy	C2
Bring on conclusions of disgust	I
Like the sweet blossoms of the May	X
Whose fragrance ends in must	I
O give her then her tribute just	I
Her sighs and tears and musings holy	H
There is no music in the life	D2
That sounds with idiot laughter solely	H
There's not a string attuned to mirth	E2
But has its chord in Melancholy	H

Thomas Hood

Ode To Melancholy Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis

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