The Lost Pleiad Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis

Rhyme Scheme: ABBCDBEFD GHIJDHJD KLMMLMMKJJJ IINIONOAAEG PAPAQEIGRRRAAR

NOT in the skyA
Where it was seenB
So long in eminence of light sereneB
Nor on the white tops of the glistering waveC
Nor down in mansions of the hidden deepD
Though beautiful in greenB
And crystal its great caves of mysteryE
Shall the bright watcher haveF
Her place and as of old high station keepD
-
Gone goneG
Oh nevermore to cheerH
The mariner who holds his course aloneI
On the Atlantic through the weary nightJ
When the stars turn to watchers and do sleepD
Shall it again appearH
With the sweet loving certainty of lightJ
Down shining on the shut eyes of the deepD
-
The upward looking shepherd on the hillsK
Of Chaldea night returning with his flocksL
He wonders why his beauty doth not blazeM
Gladding his gazeM
And from his dreary watch along the rocksL
Guiding him homeward o er the perilous waysM
How stands he waiting still in a sad mazeM
Much wondering while the drowsy silence fillsK
The sorrowful vault how lingers in the hope that nightJ
May yet renew the expected and sweet lightJ
So natural to his sightJ
-
And loneI
Where at the first in smiling love she shoneI
Brood the once happy circle of bright starsN
How should they dream until her fate was knownI
That they were ever confiscate to deathO
That dark oblivion the pure beauty marsN
And like the earth its common bloom and breathO
That they should fall from highA
Their lights grow blasted by a touch and dieA
All their concerted springs of harmonyE
Snapt rudely and the generous music goneG
-
Ah still the strainP
Of wailing sweetness fills the saddening skyA
The sister stars lamenting in their painP
That one of the selectest ones must dieA
Must vanish when most lovely from the restQ
Alas t is ever thus the destinyE
Even Rapture s song hath evermore a toneI
Of wailing as for bliss too quickly goneG
The hope most precious is the soonest lostR
The flower most sweet is first to feel the frostR
Are not all short lived things the loveliestR
And like the pale star shooting down the skyA
Look they not ever brightest as they flyA
From the lone sphere they blestR

William Gilmore Simms



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