Silchester, The Ancient Caleva.[199] Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis
Rhyme Scheme: AABBCCDD EEEEDD FFGGHHIE JKEEEELLEEEEEE EEMMEEENNJJ| The wild pear whispers and the ivy crawls | A |
| Along the circuit of thine ancient walls | A |
| Lone city of the dead and near this mound | B |
| The buried coins of mighty men are found | B |
| Silent remains of C sars and of kings | C |
| Soldiers of whose renown the world yet rings | C |
| In its sad story These have had their day | D |
| Of glory and have passed like sounds away | D |
| - | |
| And such their fame While we the spot behold | E |
| And muse upon the tale that Time has told | E |
| We ask where are they they whose clarion brayed | E |
| Whose chariot glided and whose war horse neighed | E |
| Whose cohorts hastened o'er the echoing way | D |
| Whose eagles glittered to the orient ray | D |
| - | |
| Ask of this fragment reared by Roman hands | F |
| That now a lone and broken column stands | F |
| Ask of that road whose track alone remains | G |
| That swept of old o'er mountains downs and plains | G |
| And still along the silent champagne leads | H |
| Where are its noise of cars and tramp of steeds | H |
| Ask of the dead and silence will reply | I |
| Go seek them in the grave of mortal vanity | E |
| - | |
| Is this a Roman veteran look again | J |
| It is a British soldier who in Spain | K |
| At Albuera's glorious fight has bled | E |
| He too has spurred his charger o'er the dead | E |
| Desolate now friendless and desolate | E |
| Let him the tale of war and home relate | E |
| His wife and Gainsborough such a form and mien | L |
| Would paint in harmony with such a scene | L |
| With pensive aspect yet demeanour bland | E |
| A tottering infant guided by her hand | E |
| Spoke of her own green Erin while her child | E |
| Amid the scene of ancient glory smiled | E |
| As spring's first flower smiles from a monument | E |
| Of other years by time and ruin rent | E |
| - | |
| Lone city of the dead thy pride is past | E |
| Thy temples sunk as at the whirlwind's blast | E |
| Silent all silent where the mingled cries | M |
| Of gathered myriads rent the purple skies | M |
| Here where the summer breezes waved the wood | E |
| The stern and silent gladiator stood | E |
| And listened to the shouts that hailed his gushing blood | E |
| And on this wooded mount that oft of yore | N |
| Hath echoed to the Lybian lion's roar | N |
| The ear scarce catches from the shady glen | J |
| The small pipe of the solitary wren | J |
William Lisle Bowles
(1)
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