Love And Age Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis

Rhyme Scheme: ABABCDCD EFEFGDGD HIHIADAD CECEEDED GJGJKDKD LMLMCDCD NONOPDPD

I play'd with you 'mid cowslips blowingA
When I was six and you were fourB
When garlands weaving flower balls throwingA
Were pleasures soon to please no moreB
Through groves and meads o'er grass and heatherC
With little playmates to and froD
We wander'd hand in hand togetherC
But that was sixty years agoD
-
You grew a lovely roseate maidenE
And still our early love was strongF
Still with no care our days were ladenE
They glided joyously alongF
And I did love you very dearlyG
How dearly words want power to showD
I thought your heart was touch'd as nearlyG
But that was fifty years agoD
-
Then other lovers came around youH
Your beauty grew from year to yearI
And many a splendid circle found youH
The centre of its glimmering sphereI
I saw you then first vows forsakingA
On rank and wealth your hand bestowD
O then I thought my heart was breakingA
But that was forty years agoD
-
And I lived on to wed anotherC
No cause she gave me to repineE
And when I heard you were a motherC
I did not wish the children mineE
My own young flock in fair progressionE
Made up a pleasant Christmas rowD
My joy in them was past expressionE
But that was thirty years agoD
-
You grew a matron plump and comelyG
You dwelt in fashion's brightest blazeJ
My earthly lot was far more homelyG
But I too had my festal daysJ
No merrier eyes have ever glisten'dK
Around the hearth stone's wintry glowD
Than when my youngest child was christen'dK
But that was twenty years agoD
-
Time pass'd My eldest girl was marriedL
And I am now a grandsire grayM
One pet of four years old I've carriedL
Among the wild flower'd meads to playM
In our old fields of childish pleasureC
Where now as then the cowslips blowD
She fills her basket's ample measureC
And that is not ten years agoD
-
But though first love's impassion'd blindnessN
Has pass'd away in colder lightO
I still have thought of you with kindnessN
And shall do till our last good nightO
The ever rolling silent hoursP
Will bring a time we shall not knowD
When our young days of gathering flowersP
Will be an hundred years agoD

Thomas Love Peacock



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