Rupert Brooke Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis
Rhyme Scheme: A ABBCABBC DEDFFE A GBBGHBBH BCCBBC A CIJCCJIC AAGCCG A KGGKKGGK LDMLMD| I | A |
| - | |
| Your face was lifted to the golden sky | A |
| Ablaze beyond the black roofs of the square | B |
| As flame on flame leapt flourishing in air | B |
| Its tumult of red stars exultantly | C |
| To the cold constellations dim and high | A |
| And as we neared the roaring ruddy flare | B |
| Kindled to gold your throat and brow and hair | B |
| Until you burned a flame of ecstasy | C |
| - | |
| The golden head goes down into the night | D |
| Quenched in cold gloom and yet again you stand | E |
| Beside me now with lifted face alight | D |
| As flame to flame and fire to fire you burn | F |
| Then recollecting laughingly you turn | F |
| And look into my eyes and take my hand | E |
| - | |
| II | A |
| - | |
| Once in my garret you being far away | G |
| Tramping the hills and breathing upland air | B |
| Or so I fancied brooding in my chair | B |
| I watched the London sunshine feeble and grey | G |
| Dapple my desk too tired to labour more | H |
| When looking up I saw you standing there | B |
| Although I'd caught no footstep on the stair | B |
| Like sudden April at my open door | H |
| - | |
| Though now beyond earth's farthest hills you fare | B |
| Song crowned immortal sometimes it seems to me | C |
| That if I listen very quietly | C |
| Perhaps I'll hear a light foot on the stair | B |
| And see you standing with your angel air | B |
| Fresh from the uplands of eternity | C |
| - | |
| III | A |
| - | |
| Your eyes rejoiced in colour's ecstasy | C |
| Fulfilling even their uttermost desire | I |
| When over a great sunlit field afire | J |
| With windy poppies streaming like a sea | C |
| Of scarlet flame that flaunted riotously | C |
| Among green orchards of that western shire | J |
| You gazed as though your heart could never tire | I |
| Of life's red flood in summer revelry | C |
| - | |
| And as I watched you little thought had I | A |
| How soon beneath the dim low drifting sky | A |
| Your soul should wander down the darkling way | G |
| With eyes that peer a little wistfully | C |
| Half glad half sad remembering as they see | C |
| Lethean poppies shrivelling ashen grey | G |
| - | |
| IV | A |
| - | |
| October chestnuts showered their perishing gold | K |
| Over us as beside the stream we lay | G |
| In the Old Vicarage garden that blue day | G |
| Talking of verse and all the manifold | K |
| Delights a little net of words may hold | K |
| While in the sunlight water voles at play | G |
| Dived under a trailing crimson bramble spray | G |
| And walnuts thudded ripe on soft black mould | K |
| - | |
| Your soul goes down unto a darker stream | L |
| Alone O friend yet even in death's deep night | D |
| Your eyes may grow accustomed to the dark | M |
| And Styx for you may have the ripple and gleam | L |
| Of your familiar river and Charon's bark | M |
| Tarry by that old garden of your delight | D |
Wilfrid Wilson Gibson
(1)
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