Memorials Of A Tour In Italy, 1837 - Xviii. - At Vallombrosa Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis

Rhyme Scheme: ABCD ECFCGCGC HCHCIHIH JKJKLMLM NONOPOPO QRQROCOC

Thick as autumnal leaves that strew the brooksA
In Vallombrosa where Etrurian shadesB
High over arch'd embowerC
Paradise LostD
-
-
Vallombrosa I longed in thy shadiest woodE
To slumber reclined on the moss covered floorC
Fond wish that was granted at last and the FloodF
That lulled me asleep bids me listen once moreC
Its murmur how soft as it falls down the steepG
Near that Cell yon sequestered Retreat high in airC
Where our Milton was wont lonely vigils to keepG
For converse with God sought through study and prayerC
-
The Monks still repeat the tradition with prideH
And its truth who shall doubt for his Spirit is hereC
In the cloud piercing rocks doth her grandeur abideH
In the pines pointing heavenward her beauty austereC
In the flower besprent meadows his genius we traceI
Turned to humbler delights in which youth might confideH
That would yield him fit help while prefiguring that PlaceI
Where if Sin had not entered Love never had diedH
-
When with life lengthened out came a desolate timeJ
And darkness and danger had compassed him roundK
With a thought he would flee to these haunts of his primeJ
And here once again a kind shelter be foundK
And let me believe that when nightly the MuseL
Did waft him to Sion the glorified hillM
Here also on some favoured height he would chooseL
To wander and drink inspiration at willM
-
Vallombrosa of thee I first heard in the pageN
Of that holiest of Bards and the name for my mindO
Had a musical charm which the winter of ageN
And the changes it brings had no power to unbindO
And now ye Miltonian shades under youP
I repose nor am forced from sweet fancy to partO
While your leaves I behold and the brooks they will strewP
And the realised vision is clasped to my heartO
-
Even so and unblamed we rejoice as we mayQ
In Forms that must perish frail objects of senseR
Unblamed if the Soul be intent on the dayQ
When the Being of Beings shall summon her henceR
For he and he only with wisdom is blestO
Who gathering true pleasures wherever they growC
Looks up in all places for joy or for restO
To the Fountain whence Time and Eternity flowC

William Wordsworth



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