The Church-warden And The Curate Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis
Rhyme Scheme: AAA ABBCC ADDEE FBBDDCC BBBGG FHHIIBB FBBHHGG FBBBB HBBDDJJ HGGDDGGBB BGGGG| I | A |
| Eh good da y good da y thaw it be n't not mooch of a da y | A |
| Nasty casselty weather an' mea Ha fe down wi' my ha y | A |
| - | |
| II | A |
| How be the farm gittin on no ways Gittin on i'dee d | B |
| Why tonups was Ha fe on 'em fingers an' toas an' the mare brokken knee d | B |
| An' pigs didn't sell at fall an' wa lost wer Haldeny cow | C |
| An' it be ts ma to knaw wot she died on but wool's looking oop ony how | C |
| - | |
| III | A |
| An' so they've ma de tha a parson an' thou'll git along niver fear | D |
| Fur I be n chuch warden mysen i' the parish fur fifteen year | D |
| Well sin ther be chuch wardens ther mun be parsons an' all | E |
| An' if t' ne stick alongside t'uther the chuch we nt happen a fall | E |
| - | |
| IV | F |
| Fur I wur a Baptis wonst an' age n the toithe an' the ra te | B |
| Till I fun that it warn't not the ga inist wa y to the narra Ga te | B |
| An' I can't abe r 'em I can't fur a lot on 'em coom'd ta year | D |
| I wur down wi' the rheumatis then to my pond to wesh thessens theere | D |
| Sa I sticks like the ivin as long as I lives to the owd chuch now | C |
| Fur they wesh'd their sins i' my pond an' I doubts they poison'd the cow | C |
| - | |
| V | B |
| Ay an' ya seed the Bishop They say's 'at he coom'd fra nowt | B |
| Burn i' tra de Sa I warrants 'e niver said ha fe wot 'e thowt | B |
| But 'e cree pt an' 'e crawl'd along till 'e fee ld 'e could howd 'is o n | G |
| Then 'e married a gre t Yerl's darter an' sits o' the Bishop's throan | G |
| - | |
| VI | F |
| Now I'll gie the a bit o' my mind an' tha weant be taakin' offence | H |
| Fur thou be a big scholard now wi' a hoonderd ha cre o' sense | H |
| But sich an obstropulous lad naay naay fur I minds tha sa well | I |
| Tha'd niver not hopple thy tongue an' the tongue's sit afire o' Hell | I |
| As I says to my missis to da y when she hurl'd a pla te at the cat | B |
| An' anoother age n my no se Ya was niver sa bad as that | B |
| - | |
| VII | F |
| But I minds when i' Howlaby beck won da y ya was ticklin' o' trout | B |
| An' kee per 'e seed ya an roon'd an' 'e beal'd to ya 'Lad coom hout' | B |
| An' ya stood oop na kt i' the beck an' ya tell'd 'im to knaw his awn pla ce | H |
| An' ye call'd 'im a clown ya did an' ya thraw'd the fish i' 'is fa ce | H |
| An' 'e torn'd as red as a stag tuckey's wattles but theer an' then | G |
| I co mb'd 'im down fur I promised ya'd niver not do it age n | G |
| - | |
| VIII | F |
| An' I cotch'd tha wonst i' my garden when thou was a height year howd | B |
| An' I fun thy pockets as full o' my pippins as iver they'd 'owd | B |
| An' thou was as pe rky as owt an' tha ma de me as mad as mad | B |
| But I says to the 'kee p 'em an' welcome' fur thou was the Parson's lad | B |
| - | |
| IX | H |
| An Parson 'e 'ears on it all an' then ta kes kindly to me | B |
| An' then I wur chose Chuch warden an' coom'd to the top o' the tree | B |
| Fur Quoloty's hall my friends an' they ma kes ma a help to the poor | D |
| When I gits the pla te fuller o' Soondays nor ony chuch warden afoor | D |
| Fur if iver thy feyther'ed riled me I kep' mysen mee k as a lamb | J |
| An' saw by the Gra ce o' the Lord Mr Harry I ham wot I ham | J |
| - | |
| X | H |
| But Parson 'e will spe k out saw now 'e be sixty seven | G |
| He'll niver swap Owlby an' Scratby fur owt but the Kingdom o' Heaven | G |
| An' thou'II be 'is Curate 'ere but if iver tha me ns to git 'igher | D |
| The mun tackle the sins o' the Wo'ld an' not the faults o' the Squire | D |
| An' I reckons tha'll light of a livin' some wheers i' the Wowd or the Fen | G |
| If tha cottons down to thy betters an' kee ps thysen to thysen | G |
| But niver not spe k pla in out if tha wants to git forrards a bit | B |
| But cree p along the hedge bottoms an' thou'll be a Bishop yit | B |
| - | |
| XI | B |
| Na y but tha mun spe k hout to the Baptises here i' the town | G |
| Fur mo st on 'em talks age n tithe an' I'd like the to pre ch 'em down | G |
| Fur they've bin a pre chin' mea down they heve an' I ha tes 'em now | G |
| Fur they le ved their nasty sins i' my pond an' it poison'd the cow | G |
Alfred Lord Tennyson
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About The Church-warden And The Curate
The Church-warden And The Curate is a poem by Alfred Lord Tennyson. This page includes the poem text, poet information, related topics, comments, and similar poems.
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