The Stage Coach Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis
Rhyme Scheme: AABB BBCC DDEE FFGG HHII JJBB KKLL BBMN OOII| No matter what the weather was in good old stage coach days | A |
| The driver with his ruddy face and spanking team of bays | A |
| Would spin along the turnpike road o'er level stretch and hill | B |
| That wound away from Idleburg to classic Nicholasville | B |
| - | |
| The depths beneath his seat were filled with leathern sacks of mail | B |
| And all the coach's top at times was crowded to the rail | B |
| With trunks valises packages and bundles by the score | C |
| That must have weighed it seemed to me five thousand pounds or more | C |
| - | |
| And strapped within the bulging boot that hung far out behind | D |
| Was added weight enough to make a team of oxen blind | D |
| And counting all the passengers that filled the coach within | E |
| The load those horses had to drag I thought it was a sin | E |
| - | |
| How proud of them the driver was And often he would brag | F |
| That they could pull a heavier load and never balk or flag | F |
| If all the road was ankle deep in miry sticky mud | G |
| That was the time his team would show its metal and its blood | G |
| - | |
| The ribbons then he'd gather up and give his whip a crack | H |
| And any team in front of him had better clear the track | H |
| He seemed to own the turnpike road and kept the right of way | I |
| Unto himself as jealously as bloomers do to day | I |
| - | |
| By wood and field he wound along and by the river's bank | J |
| And when he reached the covered bridge the hoof beats on the plank | J |
| Were echoed from the cliffs around and from the vale below | B |
| And going up the hill beyond he'd let 'em walk and blow | B |
| - | |
| Then urged into a trot again around the curves they spun | K |
| Till hove in sight the manor house of Camp Dick Robinson | K |
| And on beyond where Nelson lay the bravest of the brave | L |
| Till Nicholasville at last was reached to them the reins he gave | L |
| - | |
| And when the sun was hanging low and slanting shadows fell | B |
| Along the streets of Idleburg that old familiar yell | B |
| Would greet the ears of villagers from small boys as they ran | M |
| With open mouths and lusty lungs a shouting Here comes Sam | N |
| - | |
| Ah me The old stage coach abandoned now stands in the stable lot | O |
| A victim to the tooth of rust and slow decay and rot | O |
| Its whole souled driver years ago forever passed away | I |
| And crumbled now to dust the hand that drove each gallant bay | I |
George W. Doneghy
(1)
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