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