Death Of Captain Cooke, - Of "the Bellerophon," Killed In The Same Battle Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis
Rhyme Scheme: AABBCCDDEEFGHHIIJJCC KKAALLMMNNJJKKONAA| When anxious Spain along her rocky shore | A |
| From cliff to cliff returned the sea fight's roar | A |
| When flash succeeding flash tremendous broke | B |
| The haze incumbent and the clouds of smoke | B |
| As oft the volume rolled away thy mien | C |
| Thine eye serenely terrible was seen | C |
| My gallant friend Hark the shrill bugle calls | D |
| Is the day won alas he falls he falls | D |
| His soul from pain from agony release | E |
| Hear his last murmur Let me die in peace | E |
| Yet still brave Cooke thy country's grateful tear | F |
| Shall wet the bleeding laurel on thy bier | G |
| But who shall wake to joy through a long life | H |
| Of sadness thy beloved and widowed wife | H |
| Who now perhaps thinks how the green seas foam | I |
| That bear thy victor ship impatient home | I |
| Alas the well known views the swelling plain | J |
| Thy laurel circled home endeared in vain | J |
| The brook the church those chestnuts darkly green | C |
| Yon fir crowned summit and the village scene | C |
| Wardour's long sweep of woods the nearer mill | K |
| And high o'er all the turrets of Font Hill | K |
| These views when summer comes shall charm no more | A |
| Him o'er whose welt'ring corse the wild waves roar | A |
| Enough 'twas Honour's voice that awful cried | L |
| Glory to him who for his country died | L |
| Yet dreary is her solitude who bends | M |
| And mourns the best of husbands fathers friends | M |
| Oh when she wakes at midnight but to shed | N |
| Fresh tears of anguish on her lonely bed | N |
| Thinking on him who is not then restrain | J |
| The tear O God and her sad heart sustain | J |
| Giver of life may she remember still | K |
| Thy chastening hand and to thy sovereign will | K |
| Bow silently not hopeless while her eye | O |
| She raises to a bright futurity | N |
| And meekly trusts in heaven Thou wilt restore | A |
| That happiness the world can give no more | A |
William Lisle Bowles
(1)
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