The Danish Boy: A Fragment Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis
Rhyme Scheme: A BABACDEEDFF A GHGHIJBBJKK A DLDMBNOONBB PDPDQFBBFKK D AJAJH RS TTI | A |
- | |
Between two sister moorland rills | B |
There is a spot that seems to lie | A |
Sacred to flowerets of the hills | B |
And sacred to the sky | A |
And in this smooth and open dell | C |
There is a tempest stricken tree | D |
A corner stone by lightning cut | E |
The last stone of a lonely hut | E |
And in this dell you see | D |
A thing no storm can e'er destroy | F |
The shadow of a Danish Boy | F |
- | |
II | A |
- | |
In clouds above the lark is heard | G |
But drops not here to earth for rest | H |
Within this lonesome nook the bird | G |
Did never build her nest | H |
No beast no bird hath here his home | I |
Bees wafted on the breezy air | J |
Pass high above those fragrant bells | B |
To other flowers to other dells | B |
Their burthens do they bear | J |
The Danish Boy walks here alone | K |
The lovely dell is all his own | K |
- | |
III | A |
- | |
A Spirit of noon day is he | D |
Yet seems a form of flesh and blood | L |
Nor piping shepherd shall he be | D |
Nor herd boy of the wood | M |
A regal vest of fur he wears | B |
In colour like a raven's wing | N |
It fears not rain nor wind nor dew | O |
But in the storm 'tis fresh and blue | O |
As budding pines in spring | N |
His helmet has a vernal grace | B |
Fresh as the bloom upon his face | B |
- | |
IV | - |
- | |
A harp is from his shoulder slung | P |
Resting the harp upon his knee | D |
To words of a forgotten tongue | P |
He suits its melody | D |
Of flocks upon the neighbouring hill | Q |
He is the darling and the joy | F |
And often when no cause appears | B |
The mountain ponies prick their ears | B |
They hear the Danish Boy | F |
While in the dell he sings alone | K |
Beside the tree and corner stone | K |
- | |
V | D |
- | |
There sits he in his face you spy | A |
No trace of a ferocious air | J |
Nor ever was a cloudless sky | A |
So steady or so fair | J |
The lovely Danish Boy is blest | H |
And happy in his flowery cove | - |
From bloody deeds his thoughts are far | R |
And yet he warbles songs of war | S |
That seem like songs of love | - |
For calm and gentle is his mien | T |
Like a dead Boy he is serene | T |
William Wordsworth
(1)
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