The Genius Of Harmony. An Irregular Ode Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis

Rhyme Scheme: AB CDDDEECDCCCEDCFG FCGHIICJKKJLLCCMMAA ENNDEDLLEFOPPQARRALL CC AQAAODADFFDAFDDSFFDT TUFVADWWWADA DADA DDDDXXWW DADADADA QDQD

Ad harmoniam canere mundumA
CICERO de Nat Deor lib iiiB
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There lies a shell beneath the wavesC
In many a hollow winding wreathedD
Such as of oldD
Echoed the breath that warbling sea maids breathedD
This magic shellE
From the white bosom of a syren fellE
As once she wandered by the tide that lavesC
Sicilia's sands of goldD
It bearsC
Upon its shining side the mystic notesC
Of those entrancing airsC
The genii of the deep were wont to swellE
When heaven's eternal orbs their midnight music rolledD
Oh seek it wheresoe'er it floatsC
And if the powerF
Of thrilling numbers to thy soul be dearG
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Go bring the bright shell to my bowerF
And I will fold thee in such downy dreamsC
As lap the Spirit of the Seventh SphereG
When Luna's distant tone falls faintly on his earH
And thou shalt ownI
That through the circle of creation's zoneI
Where matter slumbers or where spirit beamsC
From the pellucid tides that whirlJ
The planets through their maze of songK
To the small rill that weeps alongK
Murmuring o'er beds of pearlJ
From the rich sighL
Of the sun's arrow through an evening skyL
To the faint breath the tuneful osier yieldsC
On Afric's burning fieldsC
Thou'lt wondering own this universe divineM
Is mineM
That I respire in all and all in meA
One mighty mingled soul of boundless harmonyA
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Welcome welcome mystic shellE
Many a star has ceased to burnN
Many a tear has Saturn's urnN
O'er the cold bosom of the ocean weptD
Since thy aerial spellE
Hath in the waters sleptD
Now blest I'll flyL
With the bright treasure to my choral skyL
Where she who waked its early swellE
The Syren of the heavenly choirF
Walks o'er the great string of my Orphic LyreO
Or guides around the burning poleP
The winged chariot of some blissful soulP
While thouQ
Oh son of earth what dreams shall rise for theeA
Beneath Hispania's sunR
Thou'll see a streamlet runR
Which I've imbued with breathing melodyA
And there when night winds down the current dieL
Thou'lt hear how like a harp its waters sighL
A liquid chord is every wave that flowsC
An airy plectrum every breeze that blowsC
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There by that wondrous streamA
Go lay thy languid browQ
And I will send thee such a godlike dreamA
As never blest the slumbers even of himA
Who many a night with his primordial lyreO
Sate on the chill Pangaean mountD
And looking to the orient dimA
Watched the first flowing of that sacred fountD
From which his soul had drunk its fireF
Oh think what visions in that lonely hourF
Stole o'er his musing breastD
What pious ecstasyA
Wafted his prayer to that eternal PowerF
Whose seal upon this new born world imprestD
The various forms of bright divinityD
Or dost thou know what dreams I woveS
Mid the deep horror of that silent bowerF
Where the rapt Samian slept his holy slumberF
When freeD
From every earthly chainT
From wreaths of pleasure and from bonds of painT
His spirit flew through fields aboveU
Drank at the source of nature's fontal numberF
And saw in mystic choir around him moveV
The stars of song Heaven's burning minstrelsyA
Such dreams so heavenly brightD
I swearW
By the great diadem that twines my hairW
And by the seven gems that sparkle thereW
Mingling their beamsA
In a soft iris of harmonious lightD
Oh mortal such shall be thy radiant dreamsA
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I found her not the chamber seemedD
Like some divinely haunted placeA
Where fairy forms had lately beamedD
And left behind their odorous traceA
-
It felt as if her lips had shedD
A sigh around her ere she fledD
Which hung as on a melting luteD
When all the silver chords are muteD
There lingers still a trembling breathX
After the note's luxurious deathX
A shade of song a spirit airW
Of melodies which had been thereW
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I saw the veil which all the dayD
Had floated o'er her cheek of roseA
I saw the couch where late she layD
In languor of divine reposeA
And I could trace the hallowed printD
Her limbs had left as pure and warmA
As if 'twere done in rapture's mintD
And Love himself had stamped the formA
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Oh my sweet mistress where wert thouQ
In pity fly not thus from meD
Thou art my life my essence nowQ
And my soul dies of wanting theeD

Thomas Moore



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