An Imitation Of Spenser Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis

Rhyme Scheme: ABAACBCCDEFEEGEGE FHFHBFHH FIFIIFII JHJFHBHBH KHKHHBHBHH

light and truth's beamsA
In lucent words my darkling verses dightB
And wash my earthy mind in thy clear streamsA
That wisdom may descend in fairy dreamsA
All while the jocund hours in thy trainC
Scatter their fancies at thy poet's feetB
And when thou yields to night thy wide domainC
Let rays of truth enlight his sleeping brainC
For brutish Pan in vain might thee assayD
With tinkling sounds to dash thy nervous verseE
Sound without sense yet in his rude affrayF
For ignorance is Folly's leasing nurseE
And love of Folly needs none other's curseE
Midas the praise hath gain'd of lengthen'd earsG
For which himself might deem him ne'er the worseE
To sit in council with his modern peersG
And judge of tinkling rimes and elegances terseE
-
And thou Mercurius that with wing d browF
Dost mount aloft into the yielding skyH
And thro' Heav'n's halls thy airy flight dost throwF
Entering with holy feet to where on highH
Jove weighs the counsel of futurityB
Then laden with eternal fate dost goF
Down like a falling star from autumn skyH
And o'er the surface of the silent deep dost flyH
-
If thou arrivest at the sandy shoreF
Where nought but envious hissing adders dwellI
Thy golden rod thrown on t he dusty floorF
Can charm to harmony with potent spellI
Such is sweet Eloquence that does dispelI
Envy and Hate that thirst for human goreF
And cause in sweet society to dwellI
Vile savage minds that lurk in lonely cellI
-
O Mercury assist my lab'ring senseJ
That round the circle of the world would flyH
As the wing'd eagle scorns the tow'ry fenceJ
Of Alpine hills round his high a ryF
And searches thro' the corners of the skyH
Sports in the clouds to hear the thunder's soundB
And see the wing d lightnings as they flyH
Then bosom'd in an amber cloud aroundB
Plumes his wide wings and seeks Sol's palace highH
-
And thou O warrior maid invincibleK
Arm'd with the terrors of Almighty JoveH
Pallas Minerva maiden terribleK
Lov'st thou to walk the peaceful solemn groveH
In solemn gloom of branches interwoveH
Or bear'st thy AEgis o'er the burning fieldB
Where like the sea the waves of battle moveH
Or have thy soft piteous eyes beheldB
The weary wanderer thro' the desert roveH
Or does th' afflicted man thy heav'nly bosom moveH

William Blake



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