Maternal Grief Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis
Rhyme Scheme: ABCDEFGHIJKLMNOPQRST UVWXYZA2B2C2D2E2F2G2 YPH2I2J2K2L2M2N2O2P2 F2Q2L2R2S2T2U2TQV2P2 W2X2Y2Z2A3B3C3D3OL2E 3F3G3OH3I3QT2J3K3L3Y 2LM3N3PDEPARTED Child I could forget thee once | A |
Though at my bosom nursed this woeful gain | B |
Thy dissolution brings that in my soul | C |
Is present and perpetually abides | D |
A shadow never never to be displaced | E |
By the returning substance seen or touched | F |
Seen by mine eyes or clasped in my embrace | G |
Absence and death how differ they and how | H |
Shall I admit that nothing can restore | I |
What one short sigh so easily removed | J |
Death life and sleep reality and thought | K |
Assist me God their boundaries to know | L |
O teach me calm submission to thy Will | M |
The Child she mourned had overstepped the pale | N |
Of Infancy but still did breathe the air | O |
That sanctifies its confines and partook | P |
Reflected beams of that celestial light | Q |
To all the Little ones on sinful earth | R |
Not unvouchsafed a light that warmed and cheered | S |
Those several qualities of heart and mind | T |
Which in her own blest nature rooted deep | U |
Daily before the Mother's watchful eye | V |
And not hers only their peculiar charms | W |
Unfolded beauty for its present self | X |
And for its promises to future years | Y |
With not unfrequent rapture fondly hailed | Z |
Have you espied upon a dewy lawn | A2 |
A pair of Leverets each provoking each | B2 |
To a continuance of their fearless sport | C2 |
Two separate Creatures in their several gifts | D2 |
Abounding but so fashioned that in all | E2 |
That Nature prompts them to display their looks | F2 |
Their starts of motion and their fits of rest | G2 |
An undistinguishable style appears | Y |
And character of gladness as if Spring | P |
Lodged in their innocent bosoms and the spirit | H2 |
Of the rejoicing morning were their own | I2 |
Such union in the lovely Girl maintained | J2 |
And her twin Brother had the parent seen | K2 |
Ere pouncing like a ravenous bird of prey | L2 |
Death in a moment parted them and left | M2 |
The Mother in her turns of anguish worse | N2 |
Than desolate for oft times from the sound | O2 |
Of the survivor's sweetest voice dear child | P2 |
He knew it not and from his happiest looks | F2 |
Did she extract the food of self reproach | Q2 |
As one that lived ungrateful for the stay | L2 |
By Heaven afforded to uphold her maimed | R2 |
And tottering spirit And full oft the Boy | S2 |
Now first acquainted with distress and grief | T2 |
Shrunk from his Mother's presence shunned with fear | U2 |
Her sad approach and stole away to find | T |
In his known haunts of joy where'er he might | Q |
A more congenial object But as time | V2 |
Softened her pangs and reconciled the child | P2 |
To what he saw he gradually returned | W2 |
Like a scared Bird encouraged to renew | X2 |
A broken intercourse and while his eyes | Y2 |
Were yet with pensive fear and gentle awe | Z2 |
Turned upon her who bore him she would stoop | A3 |
To imprint a kiss that lacked not power to spread | B3 |
Faint colour over both their pallid cheeks | C3 |
And stilled his tremulous lip Thus they were calmed | D3 |
And cheered and now together breathe fresh air | O |
In open fields and when the glare of day | L2 |
Is gone and twilight to the Mother's wish | E3 |
Befriends the observance readily they join | F3 |
In walks whose boundary is the lost One's grave | G3 |
Which he with flowers hath planted finding there | O |
Amusement where the Mother does not miss | H3 |
Dear consolation kneeling on the turf | I3 |
In prayer yet blending with that solemn rite | Q |
Of pious faith the vanities of grief | T2 |
For such by pitying Angels and by Spirits | J3 |
Transferred to regions upon which the clouds | K3 |
Of our weak nature rest not must be deemed | L3 |
Those willing tears and unforbidden sighs | Y2 |
And all those tokens of a cherished sorrow | L |
Which soothed and sweetened by the grace of Heaven | M3 |
As now it is seems to her own fond heart | N3 |
Immortal as the love that gave it being | P |
William Wordsworth
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