Elegiac Musings - In The Grounds Of Coleorton Hall, The Seat Of The Late Sir G. H. Beaumont, Bart. Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis

Rhyme Scheme: AABBCDEEFFGGHHIIJJKL KMMNNOOPPQQRRSSTUVVC CWWXXYZA2A2KKLLB2B2C 2D2E2E2SSF2F2F2

With copious eulogy in prose or rhymeA
Graven on the tomb we struggle against TimeA
Alas how feebly but our feelings riseB
And still we struggle when a good man diesB
Such offering Beaumont dreaded and forbadeC
A spirit meek in self abasement cladD
Yet 'here' at least though few have numbered daysE
That shunned so modestly the light of praiseE
His graceful manners and the temperate rayF
Of that arch fancy which would round him playF
Brightening a converse never known to swerveG
From courtesy and delicate reserveG
That sense the bland philosophy of lifeH
Which checked discussion ere it warmed to strifeH
Those rare accomplishments and varied powersI
Might have their record among sylvan bowersI
Oh fled for ever vanished like a blastJ
That shook the leaves in myriads as it passedJ
Gone from this world of earth air sea and skyK
From all its spirit moving imageryL
Intensely studied with a painter's eyeK
A poet's heart and for congenial viewM
Portrayed with happiest pencil not untrueM
To common recognitions while the lineN
Flowed in a course of sympathy divineN
Oh severed too abruptly from delightsO
That all the seasons shared with equal rightsO
Rapt in the grace of undismantled ageP
From soul felt music and the treasured pageP
Lit by that evening lamp which loved to shedQ
Its mellow lustre round thy honoured headQ
While Friends beheld thee give with eye voice mienR
More than theatric force to Shakespeare's sceneR
If thou hast heard me if thy Spirit knowS
Aught of these bowers and whence their pleasures flowS
If things in our remembrance held so dearT
And thoughts and projects fondly cherished hereU
To thy exalted nature only seemV
Time's vanities light fragments of earth's dreamV
Rebuke us not The mandate is obeyedC
That said Let praise be mute where I am laidC
The holier deprecation given in trustW
To the cold marble waits upon thy dustW
Yet have we found how slowly genuine griefX
From 'silent' admiration wins reliefX
Too long abashed thy Name is like a roseY
That doth within itself its sweetness closeZ
A drooping daisy changed into a cupA2
In which her bright eyed beauty is shut upA2
Within these groves where still are flitting byK
Shades of the Past oft noticed with a sighK
Shall stand a votive Tablet haply freeL
When towers and temples fall to speak of TheeL
If sculptured emblems of our mortal doomB2
Recall not there the wisdom of the TombB2
Green ivy risen from out the cheerful earthC2
Will fringe the lettered stone and herbs spring forthD2
Whose fragrance by soft dews and rain unboundE2
Shall penetrate the heart without a woundE2
While truth and love their purposes fullfilS
Commemorating genius talent skillS
That could not lie concealed where Thou wert knownF2
Thy virtues 'He' must judge and He aloneF2
The God upon whose mercy they are thrownF2

William Wordsworth



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