Monologue Of A Mother Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis

Rhyme Scheme: ABCABC BDEBDE FDGHDG IJKIJK LMNLMN OPDQPDR EREBB

This is the last of all this is the lastA
I must hold my hands and turn my face to the fireB
I must watch my dead days fusing together in drossC
Shape after shape and scene after scene from my pastA
Fusing to one dead mass in the sinking fireB
Where the ash on the dying coals grows swiftly like heavy mossC
-
Strange he is my son whom I have awaited like a loyerB
Strange to me like a captive in a foreign country hauntingD
The confines and gazing out on the land where the wind is freeE
White and gaunt with wistful eyes that hoverB
Always on the distance as if his soul were chauntingD
The monotonous weird of departure away from meE
-
Like a strange white bird blown out of the frozen seasF
Like a bird from the far north blown with a broken wingD
Into our sooty garden he drags and beatsG
From place to place perpetually seeking releaseH
From me from the hand of my love which creeps up needingD
His happiness whilst he in displeasure retreatsG
-
I must look away from him for my faded eyesI
Like a cringing dog at his heels offend him nowJ
Like a toothless hound pursuing him with my willK
Till he chafes at my crouching persistence and a sharp spark fliesI
In my soul from under the sudden frown of his browJ
As he blenches and turns away and my heart stands stillK
-
This is the last it will not be any moreL
All my life I have borne the burden of myselfM
All the long years of sitting in my husband s houseN
Never have I said to myself as he closed the doorL
Now I am caught You are hopelessly lost O SelfM
You are frightened with joy my heart like a frightened mouseN
-
Three times have I offered myself three times rejectedO
It will not be any more No more my son my sonP
Never to know the glad freedom of obedience since long agoD
The angel of childhood kissed me and went I expectedQ
Another would take me and now my son O my sonP
I must sit awhile and wait and never knowD
The loss of myself till death comes who cannot failR
-
Death in whose service is nothing of gladness takes meE
For the lips and the eyes of God are behind a veilR
And the thought of the lipless voice of the Father shakes meE
With fear and fills my eyes with the tears of desireB
And my heart rebels with anguish as night draws nigherB

David Herbert Lawrence



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