Good-children Street Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis
Rhyme Scheme: ABABCC DEDEAA FGFGAA DHDHAA DEDEAA IJIJAA KLKLAA| There's a dear little home in Good Children street | A |
| My heart turneth fondly to day | B |
| Where tinkle of tongues and patter of feet | A |
| Make sweetest of music at play | B |
| Where the sunshine of love illumines each face | C |
| And warms every heart in that old fashioned place | C |
| - | |
| For dear little children go romping about | D |
| With dollies and tin tops and drums | E |
| And my how they frolic and scamper and shout | D |
| Till bedtime too speedily comes | E |
| Oh days they are golden and days they are fleet | A |
| With little folk living in Good Children street | A |
| - | |
| See here comes an army with guns painted red | F |
| And swords caps and plumes of all sorts | G |
| The captain rides gaily and proudly ahead | F |
| On a stick horse that prances and snorts | G |
| Oh legions of soldiers you're certain to meet | A |
| Nice make believe soldiers in Good Children street | A |
| - | |
| And yonder Odette wheels her dolly about | D |
| Poor dolly I'm sure she is ill | H |
| For one of her blue china eyes has dropped out | D |
| And her voice is asthmatic'ly shrill | H |
| Then too I observe she is minus her feet | A |
| Which causes much sorrow in Good Children street | A |
| - | |
| 'T is so the dear children go romping about | D |
| With dollies and banners and drums | E |
| And I venture to say they are sadly put out | D |
| When an end to their jubilee comes | E |
| Oh days they are golden and days they are fleet | A |
| With little folk living in Good Children street | A |
| - | |
| But when falleth night over river and town | I |
| Those little folk vanish from sight | J |
| And an angel all white from the sky cometh down | I |
| And guardeth the babes through the night | J |
| And singeth her lullabies tender and sweet | A |
| To the dear little people in Good Children Street | A |
| - | |
| Though elsewhere the world be o'erburdened with care | K |
| Though poverty fall to my lot | L |
| Though toil and vexation be always my share | K |
| What care I they trouble me not | L |
| This thought maketh life ever joyous and Sweet | A |
| There's a dear little home in Good Children street | A |
Eugene Field
(1)
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