Murtagh The Cobbler Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis
Rhyme Scheme: ABCB BDED CAFA GHIH AJKJ AGLG MNON MOAO FPMP QRSR LTUT VWSW NAXA| The harvest moon was shinin | A |
| As Murtagh came from the fair | B |
| And Oh The scent of the new mown hay | C |
| And the gorsebloom in the air | B |
| - | |
| The night wind lifted his shock of hair | B |
| With whisperings weird and low | D |
| And sang in his lonely aching heart | E |
| Till he could not choose but go | D |
| - | |
| Aside from the dusky highway | C |
| Down a haunted old boreen | A |
| To where a strange light flickered | F |
| In under the hollies green | A |
| - | |
| All night he spent in that fairy dell | G |
| Till the red dawn stained the sky | H |
| And he sold his soul to the fairy folk | I |
| For the gift of the seeing eye | H |
| - | |
| Now he dwells in the mountain cabin | A |
| Silent and unafraid | J |
| The cabin his Father left him | K |
| With the tools of his cobbler s trade | J |
| - | |
| He has no hope of Heaven | A |
| He has no fear of Hell | G |
| But he shrinks with a passing shiver | L |
| At the sound of the chapel bell | G |
| - | |
| Th stern young priest came storming | M |
| Ah tis bitter and cross was he | N |
| But Murtagh gazed with clouded eyes | O |
| At the far off shining sea | N |
| - | |
| And the wise old priest came pleading | M |
| With his understanding eyes | O |
| Ah Non can know the heart of a man | A |
| Like a priest grown old and wise | O |
| - | |
| But the bitter word and the kind word | F |
| Went by on the whispering wind | P |
| For Murtagh s eyes were seeing | M |
| Things hid from all human kind | P |
| - | |
| Below at the village fireside | Q |
| By the flickering turf fires flame | R |
| Prays a little blue eyes girsha | S |
| Sickly and frail and lame | R |
| - | |
| Till the smoky air around her | L |
| Is vibrant with angels wings | T |
| For the heart of the child is near to God | U |
| And akin to holy things | T |
| - | |
| She prays and prays for Murtagh | V |
| Who has been her friend for so long | W |
| Who fashioned her crutch of mountain ash | S |
| And cheered her with smile and song | W |
| - | |
| And I know that the Lord of Mercy | N |
| Will hark to her cry of pain | A |
| And turn his steps from the erring path | X |
| And give Murtagh his soul again | A |
Alice Guerin Crist
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