Poet Thomas Moore

Thomas Moore

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Verses To The Poet Crabbe's Inkstand Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis

Rhyme Scheme: A B CDCD EFEF GHIH JKLK MNMD OPOP QRQR STST OROR UVUV WRWR XYXZ BDBD A2RA2R CRCR B2BC2B GSGS EMEM D2RD2O

A
-
WRITTEN MAYB
-
-
All as he left it even the penC
So lately at that mind's commandD
Carelessly lying as if thenC
Just fallen from his gifted handD
-
Have we then lost him scarce an hourE
A little hour seems to have pastF
Since Life and Inspiration's powerE
Around that relic breathed their lastF
-
Ah powerless now like talismanG
Found in some vanished wizard's hallsH
Whose mighty charm with him beganI
Whose charm with him extinguisht fallsH
-
Yet tho' alas the gifts that shoneJ
Around that pen's exploring trackK
Be now with its great master goneL
Nor living hand can call them backK
-
Who does not feel while thus his eyesM
Rest on the enchanter's broken wandN
Each earth born spell it worked ariseM
Before him in succession grandD
-
Grand from the Truth that reigns o'er allO
The unshrinking truth that lets her lightP
Thro' Life's low dark interior fallO
Opening the whole severely brightP
-
Yet softening as she frowns alongQ
O'er scenes which angels weep to seeR
Where Truth herself half veils the WrongQ
In pity of the MiseryR
-
True bard and simple as the raceS
Of true born poets ever areT
When stooping from their starry placeS
They're children near tho' gods afarT
-
How freshly doth my mind recallO
'Mong the few days I've known with theeR
One that most buoyantly of allO
Floats in the wake of memoryR
-
When he the poet doubly gracedU
In life as in his perfect strainV
With that pure mellowing power of TasteU
Without which Fancy shines in vainV
-
Who in his page will leave behindW
Pregnant with genius tho' it beR
But half the treasures of a mindW
Where Sense o'er all holds masteryR
-
Friend of long years of friendship triedX
Thro' many a bright and dark eventY
In doubts my judge in taste my guideX
In all my stay and ornamentZ
-
He too was of our feast that dayB
And all were guests of one whose handD
Hath shed a new and deathless rayB
Around the lyre of this great landD
-
In whose sea odes as in those shellsA2
Where Ocean's voice of majestyR
Seems still to sound immortal dwellsA2
Old Albion's Spirit of the SeaR
-
Such was our host and tho' since thenC
Slight clouds have risen 'twixt him and meR
Who would not grasp such hand againC
Stretched forth again in amityR
-
Who can in this short life affordB2
To let such mists a moment stayB
When thus one frank atoning wordC2
Like sunshine melts them all awayB
-
Bright was our board that day tho' oneG
Unworthy brother there had placeS
As 'mong the horses of the SunG
One was they say of earthly raceS
-
Yet next to Genius is the powerE
Of feeling where true Genius liesM
And there was light around that hourE
Such as in memory never diesM
-
Light which comes o'er me as I gazeD2
Thou Relic of the Dead on theeR
Like all such dreams of vanisht daysD2
Brightly indeed but mournfullyO

Thomas Moore



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About Verses To The Poet Crabbe's Inkstand

Verses To The Poet Crabbe's Inkstand is a poem by Thomas Moore. This page includes the poem text, poet information, related topics, comments, and similar poems.


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