Lob Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis

Rhyme Scheme: AABBCCDDEEFG HHIJKKKKLLMMNNOOPP QQRRSSKKTTK UUVVWWSSKKKKXYKKKKKK KKZZA2A2SSQQB2B2C2C2 D2D2 KKD2D2E2E2SSUUF2F2G2 G2KKA2A2H2H2KKI2I2J2 J2A2A2G2G2SSSSZZ SSSSSTTKKG2G2A2A2A2 A2SSSSH2H2J2J2K2K2SS QC2SSSSC2C2

At hawthorn time in Wiltshire travellingA
In search of something chance would never bringA
An old man's face by life and weather cutB
And coloured rough brown sweet as any nutB
A land face sea blue eyed hung in my mindC
When I had left him many a mile behindC
All he said was 'Nobody can't stop 'ee It'sD
A footpath right enough You see those bitsD
Of mounds that's where they opened up the barrowsE
Sixty years since while I was scaring sparrowsE
They thought as there was something to find thereF
But couldn't find it by digging anywhere 'G
-
To turn back then and seek him where was the useH
There were three Manningfords Abbots Bohun and BruceH
And whether Alton not Manningford it wasI
My memory could not decide becauseJ
There was both Alton Barnes and Alton PriorsK
All had their churches graveyards farms and byresK
Lurking to one side up the paths and lanesK
Seldom well seen except by aeroplanesK
And when bells rang or pigs squealed or cocks crowedL
Then only heard Ages ago the roadL
Approached The people stood and looked and turnedM
Nor asked it to come nearer nor yet learnedM
To move out there and dwell in all men's dustN
And yet withal they shot the weathercock justN
Because 'twas he crowed out of tune they saidO
So now the copper weathercock is deadO
If they had reaped their dandelions and soldP
Them fairly they could have afforded goldP
-
Many years passed and I went back againQ
Among those villages and looked for menQ
Who might have known my ancient He himselfR
Had long been dead or laid upon the shelfR
I thought One man I asked about him roaredS
At my description ' 'Tis old BottlesfordS
He means Bill ' But another said 'Of courseK
It was Jack Button up at the White HorseK
He's dead sir these three years ' This lasted tillT
A girl proposed Walker of Walker's HillT
'Old Adam Walker Adam's Point you'll seeK
Marked on the maps '-
'That was her roguery '-
The next man said He was a squire's sonU
Who loved wild bird and beast and dog and gunU
For killing them He had loved them from his birthV
One with another as he loved the earthV
'The man may be like Button or Walker orW
Like Bottlesford that you want but far moreW
He sounds like one I saw when I was a childS
I could almost swear to him The man was wildS
And wandered His home was where he was freeK
Everybody has met one such man as heK
Does he keep clear old paths that no one usesK
But once a lifetime when he loves or musesK
He is English as this gate these flowers this mireX
And when at eight years old Lob lie by the fireY
Came in my books this was the man I sawK
He has been in England as long as dove and dawK
Calling the wild cherry tree the merry treeK
The rose campion Bridget in her braveryK
And in a tender mood he as I guessK
Christened one flower Love in idlenessK
And while he walked from Exeter to LeedsK
One April called all cuckoo flowers MilkmaidsK
From him old herbal Gerard learnt as a boyZ
To name wild clematis the Traveller's joyZ
Our blackbirds sang no English till his earA2
Told him they called his Jan Toy 'Pretty dear'A2
She was Jan Toy the Lucky who having lostS
A shilling and found a penny loaf rejoicedS
For reasons of his own to him the wrenQ
Is Jenny Pooter Before all other menQ
'Twas he first called the Hog's Back the Hog's BackB2
That Mother Dunch's Buttocks should not lackB2
Their name was his care He too could explainC2
Totteridge and Totterdown and Juggler's LaneC2
He knows if anyone Why Tumbling BayD2
Inland in Kent is called so he might sayD2
-
'But little he says compared with what he doesK
If ever a sage troubles him he will buzzK
Like a beehive to conclude the tedious frayD2
And the sage who knows all languages runs awayD2
Yet Lob has thirteen hundred names for a foolE2
And though he never could spare time for schoolE2
To unteach what the fox so well expressedS
On biting the cock's head off Quietness is bestS
He can talk quite as well as anyoneU
After his thinking is forgot and doneU
He first of all told someone else's wifeF2
For a farthing she'd skin a flint and spoil a knifeF2
Worth sixpence skinning it She heard him speakG2
'She had a face as long as a wet week'G2
Said he telling the tale in after yearsK
With blue smock and with gold rings in his earsK
Sometimes he is a pedlar not too poorA2
To keep his wit This is tall Tom that boreA2
The logs in and with Shakespeare in the hallH2
Once talked when icicles hung by the wallH2
As Herne the Hunter he has known hard timesK
On sleepless nights he made up weather rhymesK
Which others spoilt And Hob being then his nameI2
He kept the hog that thought the butcher cameI2
To bring his breakfast 'You thought wrong' said HobJ2
When there were kings in Kent this very LobJ2
Whose sheep grew fat and he himself grew merryA2
Wedded the king's daughter of CanterburyA2
For he alone unlike squire lord and kingG2
Watched a night by her without slumberingG2
He kept both waking When he was but a ladS
He won a rich man's heiress deaf dumb and sadS
By rousing her to laugh at him He carriedS
His donkey on his back So they were marriedS
And while he was a little cobbler's boyZ
He tricked the giant coming to destroyZ
Shrewsbury by flood 'And how far is it yet '-
The giant asked in passing 'I forgetS
But see these shoes I've worn out on the roadS
and we're not there yet ' He emptied out his loadS
Of shoes for mending The giant let fall from his spadeS
The earth for damming Severn and thus madeS
The Wrekin hill and little Ercall hillT
Rose where the giant scraped his boots While stillT
So young our Jack was chief of Gotham's sagesK
But long before he could have been wise agesK
Earlier than this while he grew thick and strongG2
And ate his bacon or at times sang a songG2
And merely smelt it as Jack the giant killerA2
He made a name He too ground up the millerA2
The Yorkshireman who ground men's bones for flourA2
-
Do you believe Jack dead before his hourA2
Or that his name is Walker or BottlesfordS
Or Button a mere clown or squire or lordS
The man you saw Lob lie by the fire Jack CadeS
Jack Smith Jack Moon poor Jack of every tradeS
Young Jack or old Jack or Jack What d'ye callH2
Jack in the hedge or Robin run by the wallH2
Robin Hood Ragged Robin lazy BobJ2
One of the lords of No Man's Land good LobJ2
Although he was seen dying at WaterlooK2
Hastings Agincourt and Sedgemoor tooK2
Lives yet He never will admit he is deadS
Till millers cease to grind men's bones for breadS
Not till our weathercock crows once againQ
And I remove my house out of the laneC2
On to the road ' With this he disappearedS
In hazel and thorn tangled with old man's beardS
But one glimpse of his back as there he stoodS
Choosing his way proved him of old Jack's bloodS
Young Jack perhaps and now a WiltshiremanC2
As he has oft been since his days beganC2

Edward Thomas



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