The Barrel-organ Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis
Rhyme Scheme: ABABCDED FGFGHIHI JKJKLIMI NONOBFBF PQRQ SQTQ UQBQ VQWQ PQRQ ABAAAAB XBXXXXB YBYYYYB RBRRRRB WBWWWWB ZBZZZZB ABAAAAB A2B2C2B2 D2E2E2B2F2E2G2B2 H2QH2G2 H2QH2G2 ABAAABCDED JEJCBIBI NONOBFBF PQRQ| There's a barrel organ carolling across a golden street | A |
| In the City as the sun sinks low | B |
| And the music's not immortal but the world has made it sweet | A |
| And fulfilled it with the sunset glow | B |
| And it pulses through the pleasures of the City and the pain | C |
| That surround the singing organ like a large eternal light | D |
| And they've given it a glory and a part to play again | E |
| In the Symphony that rules the day and night | D |
| - | |
| And now it's marching onward through the realms of old romance | F |
| And trolling out a fond familiar tune | G |
| And now it's roaring cannon down to fight the King of France | F |
| And now it's prattling softly to the moon | G |
| And all around the organ there's a sea without a shore | H |
| Of human joys and wonders and regrets | I |
| To remember and to recompense the music evermore | H |
| For what the cold machinery forgets | I |
| - | |
| Yes as the music changes | J |
| Like a prismatic glass | K |
| It takes the light and ranges | J |
| Through all the moods that pass | K |
| Dissects the common carnival | L |
| Of passions and regrets | I |
| And gives the world a glimpse of all | M |
| The colours it forgets | I |
| - | |
| And there La Traviata sighs | N |
| Another sadder song | O |
| And there Il Trovatore cries | N |
| A tale of deeper wrong | O |
| And bolder knights to battle go | B |
| With sword and shield and lance | F |
| Than ever here on earth below | B |
| Have whirled into a dance | F |
| - | |
| Go down to Kew in lilac time in lilac time in lilac time | P |
| Go down to Kew in lilac time it isn't far from London | Q |
| And you shall wander hand in hand with love in summer's wonderland | R |
| Go down to Kew in lilac time it isn't far from London | Q |
| - | |
| The cherry trees are seas of bloom and soft perfume and sweet perfume | S |
| The cherry trees are seas of bloom and oh so near to London | Q |
| And there they say when dawn is high and all the world's a blaze of sky | T |
| The cuckoo though he's very shy will sing a song for London | Q |
| - | |
| The Dorian nightingale is rare and yet they say you'll hear him there | U |
| At Kew at Kew in lilac time and oh so near to London | Q |
| The linnet and the throstle too and after dark the long haloo | B |
| And golden eyed tu whit tu whoo of owls that ogle London | Q |
| - | |
| For Noah hardly knew a bird of any kind that isn't heard | V |
| At Kew at Kew in lilac time and oh so near to London | Q |
| And when the rose begins to pout and all the chestnut spires are out | W |
| You'll hear the rest without a doubt all chorussing for London | Q |
| - | |
| Come down to Kew in lilac time in lilac time in lilac time | P |
| Come down to Kew in lilac time it isn't far from London | Q |
| And you shall wander hand in hand with love in summer's wonderland | R |
| Come down to Kew in lilac time it isn't far from London | Q |
| - | |
| And then the troubadour begins to thrill the golden street | A |
| In the City as the sun sinks low | B |
| And in all the gaudy busses there are scores of weary feet | A |
| Marking time sweet time with a dull mechanic beat | A |
| And a thousand hearts are plunging to a love they'll never meet | A |
| Through the meadows of the sunset through the poppies and the wheat | A |
| In the land where the dead dreams go | B |
| - | |
| Verdi Verdi when you wrote Il Trovatore did you dream | X |
| Of the City when the sun sinks low | B |
| Of the organ and the monkey and the many coloured stream | X |
| On the Piccadilly pavement of the myriad eyes that seem | X |
| To be litten for a moment with a wild Italian gleam | X |
| As A che la morte parodies the world's eternal theme | X |
| And pulses with the sunset glow | B |
| - | |
| There's a thief perhaps that listens with a face of frozen stone | Y |
| In the City as the sun sinks low | B |
| There's a portly man of business with a balance of his own | Y |
| There's a clerk and there's a butcher of a soft reposeful tone | Y |
| And they're all of them returning to the heavens they have known | Y |
| They are crammed and jammed in busses and they're each of them alone | Y |
| In the land where the dead dreams go | B |
| - | |
| There's a very modish woman and her smile is very bland | R |
| In the City as the sun sinks low | B |
| And her hansom jingles onward but her little jewelled hand | R |
| Is clenched a little tighter and she cannot understand | R |
| What she wants or why she wanders to that undiscovered land | R |
| For the parties there are not at all the sort of thing she planned | R |
| In the land where the dead dreams go | B |
| - | |
| There's a rowing man that listens and his heart is crying out | W |
| In the City as the sun sinks low | B |
| For the barge the eight the Isis and the coach's whoop and shout | W |
| For the minute gun the counting and the long dishevelled rout | W |
| For the howl along the tow path and a fate that's still in doubt | W |
| For a roughened oar to handle and a race to think about | W |
| In the land where the dead dreams go | B |
| - | |
| There's a labourer that listens to the voices of the dead | Z |
| In the City as the sun sinks low | B |
| And his hand begins to tremble and his face to smoulder red | Z |
| As he sees a loafer watching him and there he turns his head | Z |
| And stares into the sunset where his April love is fled | Z |
| For he hears her softly singing and his lonely soul is led | Z |
| Through the land where the dead dreams go | B |
| - | |
| There's a barrel organ carolling across a golden street | A |
| In the City as the sun sinks low | B |
| Though the music's only Verdi there's a world to make it sweet | A |
| Just as yonder yellow sunset where the earth and heaven meet | A |
| Mellows all the sooty City Hark a hundred thousand feet | A |
| Are marching on to glory through the poppies and the wheat | A |
| In the land where the dead dreams go | B |
| - | |
| So it's Jeremiah Jeremiah | A2 |
| What have you to say | B2 |
| When you meet the garland girls | C2 |
| Tripping on their way | B2 |
| - | |
| All around my gala hat | D2 |
| I wear a wreath of roses | E2 |
| A long and lonely year it is | E2 |
| I've waited for the May | B2 |
| If any one should ask you | F2 |
| The reason wny I wear it is | E2 |
| My own love my true love | G2 |
| I coming home to day | B2 |
| - | |
| And it's buy a bunch of violets for the lady | H2 |
| It's lilac time in London it's lilac time in London | Q |
| Buy a bunch of violets for the lady | H2 |
| While the sky burns blue above | G2 |
| - | |
| On the other side the street you'll find it shady | H2 |
| It's lilac time in London it's lilac time in London | Q |
| But buy a bunch of violets for the lady | H2 |
| And tell her she's your own true love | G2 |
| - | |
| There's a barrel organ carolling across a golden street | A |
| In the City as the sun sinks glittering and slow | B |
| And the music's not immortal but the world has made it sweet | A |
| And enriched it with the harmonies that make a song complete | A |
| In the deeper heavens of music where the night and morning meet | A |
| As it dies into the sunset glow | B |
| And it pulses through the pleasures of the City and the pain | C |
| That surround the singing organ like a large eternal light | D |
| And they've given it a glory and a part ot play again | E |
| In the Symphony that rules the day and night | D |
| - | |
| And there as the music changes | J |
| The song runs round again | E |
| Once more it turns and ranges | J |
| Through all its joy and pain | C |
| Dissects the common carnival | B |
| Of passions and regrets | I |
| And the wheeling world remembers all | B |
| The wheeling song forgets | I |
| - | |
| Once more La Traviata sighs | N |
| Another sadder song | O |
| Once more Il Trovatore cries | N |
| A tale of deeper wrong | O |
| Once more the knights to battle go | B |
| With sword and shield and lance | F |
| Till once once more the shattered foe | B |
| Has whirled into a dance | F |
| - | |
| Come down to Kew in lilac time in lilac time in lilac time | P |
| Come down to Kew in lilac time it isn't far from London | Q |
| And you shall wander hand in hand with love in summer's wonderland | R |
| Come down to Kew in lilac time it isn't far from London | Q |
Alfred Noyes
(1)
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The Barrel-organ is a poem by Alfred Noyes. This page includes the poem text, poet information, related topics, comments, and similar poems.
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