A Farmhouse Dirge Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis
Rhyme Scheme: AABBCC DDEEFF GGHHII JJKKLL MMNNOP CCQQRR EEFFST UUVWXX AAYVZZ A2B2ZZNN QQC2C2D2D2 E2E2F2F2ZZ G2G2KKH2H2 MMI2 FF J2J2ZZK2K2 L2L2M2JN2N2 O2O2P2P2Q2Q2 R2R2S2S2T2T2 U2V2| Will you walk with me to the brow of the hill to visit the farmer's wife | A |
| Whose daughter lies in the churchyard now eased of the ache of life | A |
| Half a mile by the winding lane another half to the top | B |
| There you may lean o'er the gate and rest she will want me awhile to stop | B |
| Stop and talk of her girl that is gone and no more will wake or weep | C |
| Or to listen rather for sorrow loves to babble its pain to sleep | C |
| - | |
| How thick with acorns the ground is strewn rent from their cups and brown | D |
| How the golden leaves of the windless elms come singly fluttering down | D |
| The briony hangs in the thinning hedge as russet as harvest corn | E |
| The straggling blackberries glisten jet the haws are red on the thorn | E |
| The clematis smells no more but lifts its gossamer weight on high | F |
| If you only gazed on the year you would think how beautiful 'tis to die | F |
| - | |
| The stream scarce flows underneath the bridge they have dropped the sluice of the mill | G |
| The roach bask deep in the pool above and the water wheel is still | G |
| The meal lies quiet on bin and floor and here where the deep banks wind | H |
| The water mosses nor sway nor bend so nothing seems left behind | H |
| If the wheels of life would but sometimes stop and the grinding awhile would cease | I |
| 'Twere so sweet to have without dying quite just a spell of autumn peace | I |
| - | |
| - | |
| Cottages four two new two old each with its clambering rose | J |
| Lath and plaster and weather tiles these brick faced with stone are those | J |
| Two crouch low from the wind and the rain and tell of the humbler days | K |
| Whilst the other pair stand up and stare with a self asserting gaze | K |
| But I warrant you'd find the old as snug as the new did you lift the latch | L |
| For the human heart keeps no whit more warm under slate than beneath the thatch | L |
| - | |
| Tenants of two of them work for me punctual sober true | M |
| I often wish that I did as well the work I have got to do | M |
| Think not to pity their lowly lot nor wish that their thoughts soared higher | N |
| The canker comes on the garden rose and not on the wilding brier | N |
| Doubt and gloom are not theirs and so they but work and love they live | O |
| Rich in the only valid boons that life can withhold or give | P |
| - | |
| Here is the railway bridge and see how straight do the bright lines keep | C |
| With pheasant copses on either side or pastures of quiet sheep | C |
| The big loud city lies far away far too is the cliffbound shore | Q |
| But the trains that travel betwixt them seem as if burdened with their roar | Q |
| Yet quickly they pass and leave no trace not the echo e'en of their noise | R |
| Don't you think that silence and stillness are the sweetest of all our joys | R |
| - | |
| Lo yonder the Farm and these the ruts that the broad wheeled wains have worn | E |
| As they bore up the hill the faggots sere or the mellow shocks of corn | E |
| The hops are gathered the twisted bines now brown on the brown clods lie | F |
| And nothing of all man sowed to reap is seen betwixt earth and sky | F |
| Year after year doth the harvest come though at summer's and beauty's cost | S |
| One can only hope when our lives grow bare some reap what our hearts have lost | T |
| - | |
| And this is the orchard small and rude and uncaredfor but oh in spring | U |
| How white is the slope with cherry bloom and the nightingales sit and sing | U |
| You would think that the world had grown young once more had forgotten death and fear | V |
| That the nearest thing unto woe on earth was the smile of an April tear | W |
| That goodness and gladness were twin were one The robin is chorister now | X |
| The russet fruit on the ground is piled and the lichen cleaves to the bough | X |
| - | |
| Will you lean o'er the gate whilst I go on You can watch the farmyard life | A |
| The beeves the farmer's hope and the poults that gladden his thrifty wife | A |
| Or turning look on the hazy weald you will not be seen from here | Y |
| Till your thoughts like it grow blurred and vague and mingle the far and near | V |
| Grief is a flood and not a spring whatever in grief we say | Z |
| And perhaps her woe should she see me alone will run more quickly away | Z |
| - | |
| I thought you would come this morning ma'am Yes Edith at last has gone | A2 |
| To morrow's a week ay just as the sun right into her window shone | B2 |
| Went with the night the vicar says where endeth never the day | Z |
| But she's left a darkness behind her here I wish she had taken away | Z |
| She is no longer with us but we seem to be always with her | N |
| In the lonely bed where we laid her last and can't get her to speak or stir | N |
| - | |
| Yes I'm at work 'tis time I was I should have begun before | Q |
| But this is the room where she lay so still ere they carried her past the door | Q |
| I thought I never could let her go where it seems so lonely of nights | C2 |
| But now I am scrubbing and dusting down and seting the place to rights | C2 |
| All I have kept are the flowers there the last that stood by her bed | D2 |
| I suppose I must throw them away She looked much fairer when she was dead | D2 |
| - | |
| Thank you for thinking of her so much Kind thought is the truest friend | E2 |
| I wish you had seen how pleased she was with the peaches you used to send | E2 |
| She tired of them too ere the end so she did with all we tried | F2 |
| But she liked to look at them all the same so we set them down by her side | F2 |
| Their bloom and the flush upon her cheek were alike I used to say | Z |
| Both were so smooth and soft and round and both have faded away | Z |
| - | |
| I never could tell you how kind too were the ladies up at the hall | G2 |
| Every noon or fair or wet one of them used to call | G2 |
| Worry and work seems ours but yours pleasant and easy days | K |
| And when all goes smooth the rich and poor have different lives and ways | K |
| Sorrow and death bring men more close 'tis joy that puts us apart | H2 |
| 'Tis a comfort to think though we're severed so we're all of us one at heart | H2 |
| - | |
| She never wished to be smart and rich as so many in these days do | M |
| Nor cared to go in on market days to stare at the gay and new | M |
| She liked to remain at home and pluck the white violets down in the wood | I2 |
| She said to her sisters before she died 'Tis so easy to be good ' | - |
| She must have found it so I think and that was the reason why | F |
| God deemed it needless to leave her here so took her up to the sky | F |
| - | |
| The vicar says that he knows she is there and surely she ought to be | J2 |
| But though I repeat the words 'tis hard to believe what one does not see | J2 |
| They did not want me to go to the grave but I could not have kept away | Z |
| And whatever I do I can only see a coffin and church yard clay | Z |
| Yes I know it's wrong to keep lingering there and wicked and weak to fret | K2 |
| And that's why I'm hard at work again for it helps one to forget | K2 |
| - | |
| The young ones don't seem to take to work as their mothers and fathers did | L2 |
| We never were asked if we liked or no but had to obey when bid | L2 |
| There's Bessie won't swill the dairy now nor Richard call home the cows | M2 |
| And all of them cry How can you mother ' when I carry the wash to the sows | J |
| Edith would drudge for Death one's hearth of the helpful one always robs | N2 |
| But she was so pretty I could not bear to set her on dirty jobs | N2 |
| - | |
| I don't know how it'll be with them when sorrow and loss are theirs | O2 |
| For it isn't likely that they'll escape their pack of worrits and cares | O2 |
| They say it's an age of progress this and a sight of things improves | P2 |
| But sickness and age and bereavement seem to work in the same old grooves | P2 |
| Fine they may grow and that but Death as lief takes the moth as the grub | Q2 |
| When their dear ones die I suspect they'll wish they'd a floor of their own to scrub | Q2 |
| - | |
| Some day they'll have a home of their own much grander than this no doubt | R2 |
| But polish the porch as you will you can't keep doctors and coffins out | R2 |
| I've done very well with my fowls this year but what are pullets and eggs | S2 |
| When the heart in vain at the door of the grave the return of the lost one begs | S2 |
| The rich have leisure to wail and weep the poor haven't time to be sad | T2 |
| If the cream hadn't been so contrairy this week I think grief would have driven me mad | T2 |
| - | |
| How does my husband bear up you ask Well thank you ma'am fairly well | U2 |
| For he too is busy just now you see with the wheat and the hops | V2 |
Alfred Austin
(1)
Poem topics: , Print This Poem , Rhyme Scheme
Submit Spanish Translation
Submit German Translation
Submit French Translation
About A Farmhouse Dirge
A Farmhouse Dirge is a poem by Alfred Austin. This page includes the poem text, poet information, related topics, comments, and similar poems.
Write your comment about A Farmhouse Dirge poem by Alfred Austin
Best Poems of Alfred Austin