The Alleys Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis
Rhyme Scheme: AABBCCBDDEFGGF HHIIJKI LLJJMMJ NNOOGGO PPQRSSS TTUUVVU WWXXSSX YYZZPPZ A2A2PPB2B2P| I was welcome in a palace when the ball was at my feet | A |
| I was petted in a garden and my triumph was complete | A |
| But for me above the alleys there forever shone a star | B |
| Where the third rate public houses and the dens of Venus are | B |
| Where the third rate public houses | C |
| And the fourth rate lodging houses | C |
| And the rag shops and the pawn shops and the dens of Venus are | B |
| I was born among the alleys bred in darkness and in doubt | D |
| And I wrote the truth in blindness and I struggled up and out | D |
| And the world was fair before me and the way was wide and plain | E |
| But the spirit of the alleys ever dragged me back again | F |
| Tis a madness I inherit | G |
| And a blind and reckless spirit | G |
| Oh the spirit of the alleys ever drags me down again | F |
| - | |
| There were fair girls in the garden where the spring came in a day | H |
| But the barmaids in the alleys know a wider world than they | H |
| There were wise men in the palace who were born to rule the earth | I |
| But the wrecks amongst the alleys know the world for what it s worth | I |
| To the pewter from the chalice | J |
| To the slum from the palace | K |
| Aye the wrecks sunk in the alleys know the world for what it s worth | I |
| - | |
| Poets who have done with puzzling men who talk but dare not think | L |
| Men who might have moulded nations had it not been for the drink | L |
| Wicked stories full of humour shafts of wit that seldom miss | J |
| Shot from blighted lips of women that the bravest dare not kiss | J |
| Let the worst girl lead the revels | M |
| Of the reckless alley devils | M |
| Pure and virtuous women often often drive men down to this | J |
| - | |
| In the days of mental torture when my life was all a hell | N |
| It was down amongst the alleys that I learnt the tales I tell | N |
| From the black sheep out from England from the boozer in from Bourke | O |
| From the tired haggard women bending over needle work | O |
| Tales of wrongs that fire the spirit | G |
| Tales of more than human merit | G |
| Told in quiet tones and measured bending over needle work | O |
| - | |
| Oh the pathos and the humour of the shifts of poverty | P |
| Oh the sympathy of drunkards wit and truth and charity | P |
| Oh the worn out working women and the lives that they endure | Q |
| And the hard and callous kindness of the poor unto the poor | R |
| Where they blame not those who labour | S |
| And the prostitute s a neighbour | S |
| Ah the humour and the courage and the kindness of the poor | S |
| - | |
| There is fire down in the alleys that has smouldered very long | T |
| There is hatred in the alleys born of centuries of wrong | T |
| And no prayer wins to heaven like a prayer from the slums | U |
| And the thrones of empire totter when the alleys beat their drums | U |
| Ah the world is very rotten | V |
| But my sins shall be forgotten | V |
| And my work shall be remembered when the alleys beat their drums | U |
| - | |
| It is down amongst the alleys in the alleys dull and damp | W |
| They find kindness in a scoundrel they find good points in a scamp | W |
| It is down amongst the alleys now my star has ceased to shine | X |
| I find sympathy with sinners and can hide what shame is mine | X |
| For we trust and shield each other | S |
| And a sinner is a brother | S |
| There are souls amongst the alleys who were lost the same as mine | X |
| - | |
| And if you should some day miss me and should care to wonder why | Y |
| Ask for me amongst the alleys by the name they knew me by | Y |
| Mind your head and pick your footsteps for you ll grope in alley gloom | Z |
| And the stairs are steep and narrow where they ll lead you to a room | Z |
| What if floors are foul and dusty | P |
| And the air is close and musty | P |
| In the days when I was noble then I wrote in such a room | Z |
| - | |
| You will see a chair and table dimly shown by candle light | A2 |
| And the pen I dropped for ever from the last line I shall write | A2 |
| And some poor attempts at comfort and a bottle and maybe | P |
| You will find a bad girl crying over what is left of me | P |
| Call no friends I shall not need them | B2 |
| Call no priests I shall not heed them | B2 |
| Let the bad girl do the praying over what is left of me | P |
Henry Lawson
(1)
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