Week-end Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis
Rhyme Scheme: ABCDEFGHGIJIJKL AAMA NIIOEOEPP AQRQRFSFSETETUU VWXVYZH A2B2A2B2C2C2 JD2JD2E2F2E2F2G2 G2 H2H2 HGFGJI2JI2J2CJ2CK2K2 L2M2L2M2N2O2N2O2P2G2 P2G2M2 Q2R2Q2R2CS2CS2N2C2N2 C2G2G2 C T2T2U2V2U2 MCMW2W2 CSV2SX2 M MY2G2IY2G2V2X2| I | A |
| The train The twleve o'clock for paradise | B |
| Hurry or it will try to creep away | C |
| Out in the country every one is wise | D |
| We can be only wise on Saturday | E |
| There you are waiting little friendly house | F |
| Those are your chimney stacks with you between | G |
| Surrounded by old trees and strolling cows | H |
| Staring through all your windows at the green | G |
| Your homely floor is creaking for our tread | I |
| The smiling tea pot with contented spout | J |
| Thinks of the boiling water and the bread | I |
| Longs for the butter All their hands are out | J |
| To greet us and the gentle blankets seem | K |
| Purring and crooning 'Lie in us and dream ' | L |
| - | |
| II | A |
| The key will stammer and the door reply | A |
| The hall wake yawn and smile the torpid stair | M |
| Will grumble at our feet the table cry | A |
| 'Fetch my bolongings for me I am bare ' | - |
| A clatter something in the attic falls | N |
| A ghost has lifted up his robes and fled | I |
| Then silence very slowly lifts his head | I |
| The starling with impatient screech has flown | O |
| The chimney and is watching from the tree | E |
| They thought us gone for ever mouse alone | O |
| Stops in the middle of the floor to see | E |
| Now all you idle things resume your toil | P |
| Hearth put your flames on Sulky kettle boil | P |
| - | |
| III | A |
| Contented evening comfortable joys | Q |
| The snoozing fire and all the fields are still | R |
| Tranquil delight no purpose and no noise | Q |
| Unless the slow wind flowing round the hill | R |
| 'Murry' the kettle dozes little mouse | F |
| Is rambling prudently about the floor | S |
| There's lovely conversation in this house | F |
| Words become princes that were slaves before | S |
| What a sweet atmosphere for you and me | E |
| The people that have been here left behind | T |
| Oh but I fear it may turn out to be | E |
| Built of a dream erected in the mind | T |
| So if we speak too loud we may awaken | U |
| To find it vanished and ourselves mistaken | U |
| - | |
| IV | - |
| Lift up the curtain carefully All the trees | V |
| Stand in the dark like drowsy sentinels | W |
| The oak is talkative to night he tells | X |
| The little bushes crowding at his knees | V |
| That formidable hard voluminous | Y |
| History of growth from acord into age | Z |
| They titter like school children they arouse | H |
| Their comrades who exclaim ' He is very sage ' | - |
| Look how the moon is staring through that cloud | A2 |
| Laying and lifting idle streaks of light | B2 |
| O hark was that the monstrous wind so loud | A2 |
| And sudden prowling always through the night | B2 |
| Let down the shaking curtain They are queer | C2 |
| Those foreigners They and we live so near | C2 |
| - | |
| V | - |
| Come come to bed The shadows move about | J |
| And some one seems to overhear our talk | D2 |
| The fire is low the candles flicker out | J |
| The ghosts of former tenants want to walk | D2 |
| Already they are shuffling through the gloom | E2 |
| I felt on old man touch my shoulder blade | F2 |
| Once he was married here they love this room | E2 |
| He and his woman and the child they made | F2 |
| Dead dead they are yet some familiar sound | G2 |
| Creeping along the brink of happy life | - |
| Revives their memory from under ground | G2 |
| The farmer and his troublesome old wife | - |
| Let us be going as we climb the stairs | H2 |
| They'll sit down in our warm half empty chairs | H2 |
| - | |
| VI | - |
| Morning Wake up Awaken All the boughs | H |
| Are rippling on the air across the green | G |
| The youngest birds are singing to the house | F |
| Blood of the world and is the country clean | G |
| Disturb the precinct Cool it with a shout | J |
| Sing as you trundle down to light the fire | I2 |
| Turn the encumbering shadows tumbling out | J |
| And fill the chambers with a new desire | I2 |
| Life is no good unless the morning brings | J2 |
| White happiness and quick delight of day | C |
| These half inanamate domestic things | J2 |
| Must all be useful or must go away | C |
| Coffee be fragrant Porridge in my plate | K2 |
| Increase the vigour to fulfil my fate | K2 |
| - | |
| VII | - |
| The fresh air moves like water round a boat | L2 |
| The white clouds wander Let us wander too | M2 |
| The whining wavering plover flap and float | L2 |
| That crow is flying after that cuckoo | M2 |
| Look Look They're gone What are the great trees calling | N2 |
| Just come a little farther by that edge | O2 |
| Of green to where the stormy ploughland falling | N2 |
| Wave upon wave is lapping to the hedge | O2 |
| Oh what a lovely bank Give me your hand | P2 |
| Lie down and press your heart against the ground | G2 |
| Let us both listen till we understand | P2 |
| Each through the other every natural sound | G2 |
| I can't hear anything to day can you | M2 |
| But far and near ' Cuckoo Cuckoo Cuckoo ' | - |
| - | |
| VIII | - |
| The everlasting grass how bright how cool | Q2 |
| The day has gone too suddenly too soon | R2 |
| There's something white and shiny in that pool | Q2 |
| Throw in a stone and you will hit the moon | R2 |
| Listen the church bell ringing Do not say | C |
| We must go back to morrow to our work | S2 |
| We'll tell them we are dead we died to day | C |
| We're lazy We're too happy We will shirk | S2 |
| We're cows We're kettles We'll be anything | N2 |
| Except the manikins of time and fear | C2 |
| We'll start away to morrow wandering | N2 |
| And nobody will notice in a year | C2 |
| Now the great sun is slipping under ground | G2 |
| Grip firmly How the earth is whirling round | G2 |
| - | |
| IX | C |
| Be staid be careful and be not too free | - |
| Temptation to enjoy your liberty | - |
| May rise against you break into a crime | T2 |
| And smash the habit of employing Time | T2 |
| It serves no purpose that the careful clock | U2 |
| Mark the appointment the officious train | V2 |
| Hurry to keep it if the minutes mock | U2 |
| Loud in you ear 'Late Late Late Late again ' | - |
| Week end is very well on Saturday | - |
| On Monday it's a different affair | M |
| A little episode a trivial stay | C |
| In some oblivious spot somehow somewhere | M |
| On Sunday night we hardly laugh or speak | W2 |
| Week end begins to merges itself in Week | W2 |
| - | |
| X | C |
| Pack up the house and close the creaking door | S |
| The fields are dull this morning in the rain | V2 |
| It's difficult to leave that homely floor | S |
| Wave a light hand we will return again | X2 |
| What was that bird Good bye ecstatic tree | - |
| Floating bursting and breathing on the air | M |
| The lonely farm is wondering that we | - |
| Can leave How every window seems to stare | M |
| That bag is heavy Share it for a bit | Y2 |
| You like that gentle swashing of the ground | G2 |
| As we tread | I |
| It is over Now we sit | Y2 |
| Reading the morning paper in the sound | G2 |
| Of the debilitating heavy train | V2 |
| London again again London again | X2 |
Harold Monro
(1)
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Week-end is a poem by Harold Monro. This page includes the poem text, poet information, related topics, comments, and similar poems.
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