Dirge On The Death Of Art O'leary Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis
Rhyme Scheme: A BCDCCCCE A FEEEEEGHE A IJCKLMNOPQRSCTUVUW XWYZTA2B2C2D2E2YVZ OF2G2YF2H2I2 J2K2 NL2 O OM2OOO NVN2N O2OO2L2N2P2Q2 R2S2L2T2U2F2R2JF2F2O F2V2W2X2CY2CZ2A3 F2 M2 F2F2F2P2B3 F2 M2 C3 B2D3 L2 M2R2E3F2F2P2F2V2O2 E3T2E3 F3Y F2O2G3WE3F2 F2 E3H3O2 OF2 I3O2C F2 E3CF2F2WCF2G CCF2V2GF2GF2GGCW O2F2GCGGE3F2F2GGE3CG G GGGGF2WWF2GCE3O2CCE3 CCWGCE3E3I | A |
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My closest and dearest | B |
From the first day I saw you | C |
From the top of the market house | D |
My eyes gave heed to you | C |
My heart gave affection to you | C |
I fled from my friends with you | C |
Far from my home with you | C |
No lasting sorrow this to me | E |
- | |
II | A |
- | |
Thou didst bring me to fair chambers | F |
Rooms you had adorned for me | E |
Ovens were reddened for me | E |
Fresh trout were caught for me | E |
Roast flesh was carved for me | E |
From beef that was felled for me | E |
On beds of down I lay | G |
Till the coming of the milking time | H |
Or so long as was pleasing to me | E |
- | |
III | A |
- | |
Rider of the white palm | I |
With the silver hilted sword | J |
Well your beaver hat became you | C |
With its band of graceful gold | K |
Your suit of solid homespun yarn | L |
Wrapped close around your form | M |
Slender shoes of foreign fashion | N |
And a pin of brightest silver | O |
Fastened in your shirt | P |
As you rode in stately wise | Q |
On your slender steed white faced | R |
After coming over seas | S |
Even the Saxons bowed before you | C |
Bowed down to the very ground | T |
Not because they loved you well | U |
But from deadly hate | V |
For it was by them you fell | U |
Darling of my soul | W |
- | |
IV | - |
- | |
My friend and my little calf | - |
Offsprings of the Lords of Antrim | X |
And the chiefs of Immokely | W |
Never had I thought you dead | Y |
Until there came to me your mare | Z |
Her bridle dragged beside her to the ground | T |
Upon her brow your heart blood splashed | A2 |
Even to the carven saddle flowing down | B2 |
Where you were wont to sit or stand | C2 |
I did not stay to cleanse it | D2 |
I gave a quick leap with my hands | E2 |
Upon the wooden stretcher of the bed | Y |
A second leap was to the gate | V |
And the third leap upon thy mare | Z |
- | |
V | - |
- | |
In haste I clapped my hands together | O |
I followed on your tracks | F2 |
As well as I could | G2 |
Till I found you laid before me dead | Y |
At the foot of a lowly bush of furze | F2 |
Without pope without bishop | H2 |
Without cleric or priest | I2 |
To read a psalm for thee | - |
But only an old bent wasted crone | J2 |
Who flung over thee the corner of her cloak | K2 |
- | |
VI | - |
- | |
My dear and beloved one | N |
When it will come to me to reach our home | L2 |
Little Conor of our love | - |
And Fiac his toddling baby brother | O |
Will be asking of me quickly | - |
Where I left their dearest father | O |
I shall answer them with sorrow | M2 |
That I left him in Kill Martyr | O |
They will call upon their father | O |
He will not be there to answer | O |
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VII | - |
- | |
My love and my chosen one | N |
When you were going forward from the gate | V |
You turned quickly back again | N2 |
You kissed your two children | N |
You threw a kiss to me | - |
You said Eileen arise now be stirring | O2 |
And set your house in order | O |
Be swiftly moving | O2 |
I am leaving our home | L2 |
It is likely that I may not come again | N2 |
I took it only for a jest | P2 |
You used often to be jesting thus before | Q2 |
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VIII | - |
- | |
My friend and my heart's love | - |
Arise up my Art | R2 |
Leap on thy steed | S2 |
Arise out to Macroom | L2 |
And to Inchegeela after that | T2 |
A bottle of wine in thy grasp | U2 |
As was ever in the time of they ancestors | F2 |
Arise up my Art | R2 |
Rider of the shining sword | J |
Put on your garments | F2 |
Your fair noble clothes | F2 |
Don your black beaver | O |
Draw on your gloves | F2 |
See here hangs your whip | V2 |
Your good mare waits without | W2 |
Strike eastward on the narrow road | X2 |
For the bushes will bare themselves before you | C |
For the streams will narrow on your path | Y2 |
For men and women will bow themselves before you | C |
If their own good manners are upon them yet | Z2 |
But I am much a feared they are not now | A3 |
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IX | F2 |
- | |
Destruction to you and woe | M2 |
O Morris hideous the treachery | - |
That took from me the man of the house | F2 |
The father of my babes | F2 |
Two of them running about the house | F2 |
The third beneath my breast | P2 |
It is likely that I shall not give it birth | B3 |
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X | F2 |
- | |
My long wound my bitter sorrow | M2 |
That I was not beside thee | - |
When the shot was fired | C3 |
That I might have got it in my soft body | - |
Or in the skirt of my gown | B2 |
Till I would give you freedom to escape | D3 |
O Rider of the grey eye | - |
Because it is you would best have followed after them | L2 |
- | |
XI | - |
- | |
My dear and my heart's love | - |
Terrible to me the way I see thee | - |
To be putting our hero | M2 |
Our rider so true of heart | R2 |
In a little cap in a coffin | E3 |
Thou who used to be fishing along the streams | F2 |
Thou who didst drink within wide halls | F2 |
Among the gentle women white of breast | P2 |
It is my thousand afflictions | F2 |
That I have lost your companionship | V2 |
My love and my darling | O2 |
Could my shouts but reach thee | - |
West in mighty Derrynane | E3 |
And in Carhen of the yellow apples after that | T2 |
Many a light hearted young horseman | E3 |
And woman with white spotless kerchief | - |
Would swiftly be with us here | F3 |
To wail above thy head | Y |
Art O'Leary of the joyous laugh | - |
O women of the soft wet eyes | F2 |
Stay now your weeping | O2 |
Till Art O'Leary drinks his drink | G3 |
Before his going back to school | W |
Not to learn reading or music does he go there now | E3 |
But to carry clay and stones | F2 |
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XII | F2 |
- | |
My love and my secret thou | E3 |
Thy corn stacks are piled | H3 |
And thy golden kine are milking | O2 |
But it is upon my own heart is the grief | - |
There is no healing in the Province of Munster | O |
Nor in the Island smithy of the Fians | F2 |
Till Art O'Leary will come back to me | - |
But all as if it were a lock upon a trunk | I3 |
And the key of it gone straying | O2 |
Or till rust will come upon the screw | C |
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XIII | F2 |
- | |
My friend and my best one | E3 |
Art O'Leary son of Conor | C |
Son of Cadach son of Lewis | F2 |
Eastward from wet wooded glens | F2 |
Westward from the slender hill | W |
Where the rowan berries grow | C |
And the yellow nuts are ripe upon the branches | F2 |
Apples trailing as it was in my day | G |
Little wonder to myself | - |
If fires were lighted in O'Leary's country | C |
And at the mouth of Ballingeary | C |
Or at holy Gougane Barra of the cells | F2 |
After the rider of the smooth grip | V2 |
After the huntsman unwearied | G |
When heavy breathing with the chase | F2 |
Even thy lithe deerhounds lagged behind | G |
O horseman of the enticing eyes | F2 |
What happened thee last night | G |
For I myself thought | G |
That the whole world could not kill you | C |
When I bought for you that shirt of mail | W |
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XIV | - |
- | |
My friend and my darling | O2 |
A cloudy vision through the darkness | F2 |
Came to me last night | G |
At Cork lately | C |
And I alone upon my bed | G |
I saw the wooded glen withered | G |
I saw our lime washed court fallen | E3 |
No sound of speech came from thy hunting dogs | F2 |
No sound of singing from the birds | F2 |
When you were found in the clay | G |
On the side of the hill without | G |
When you were found fallen | E3 |
Art O'Leary | C |
With your drop of blood oozing out | G |
Through the breast of your shirt | G |
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XV | - |
- | |
It is known to Jesus Christ | G |
I will put no cap upon thy head | G |
Nor body linen on my side | G |
Nor shoes upon my feet | G |
Nor gear throughout the house | F2 |
Even on the brown mare will be no bridle | W |
But I shall spend all in taking the law | W |
I will go across the seas | F2 |
To seek the villain of the black blood | G |
But if they will give no heed to me | C |
It is I that will come back again | E3 |
To speak with the King | O2 |
Who cut off my treasure from me | C |
O Morris who killed my hero | C |
Was there not one man in Erin | E3 |
Would put a bullet through you | C |
The affection of this heart to you | C |
O white women of the mill | W |
For the edged poetry that you have shed | G |
Over the horseman of the brown mare | C |
It is I who am the lonely one | E3 |
In Inse Carriganane | E3 |
Eleanor Hull
(1)
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