St. Andrew And Halloween Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis

Rhyme Scheme: AABBCCDEAAFFGGHHIIBB JKLLKKMMGGGGNOPPAAQQ RRSSGGLLKKGGTTUUVVWW XX

Our ancient customs to renewA
We meet to honour St AndrewA
He was of the Jewish nationB
A fisherman by occupationB
No warlike knight with lance and swordC
But humbly following his LordC
And Scotia she justly claimsD
Her soil contains his last remainsE
In early times the pilgrims drewA
Unto the shrine of St AndrewA
For miracles it gained renownF
And thence sprang up St Andrew's townF
And here to night we meet togetherG
Rose shamrock and blooming heatherG
For no more the Scottish thistleH
With warlike thorns it doth bristleH
But clansmen twine round maple leafI
When rallying at the call of chiefI
And time will come when we'll be oneB
And proud of name CanadianB
A tale we'll tell of what hath beenJ
When maids and youths kept Hallowe'enK
It is a tale of old world loreL
What happened in the days of yoreL
When faries danced upon the greenK
So merrily on Hallowe'enK
And witches did play many a trickM
Assisted by their auld friend nickM
And lovers met wound the fireG
Near to the one their hearts desireG
For to burn nuts for to discoverG
The truthfulness of their loverG
They first did give each nut a nameN
This was Sandy that was JaneO
If they did blaze side by sideP
She knew her husband he his brideP
But if one up the chimney flewA
One knew the other was not trueA
And one sure test did never failQ
Blindfold to find good stock of kaleQ
To pull the first comes to the handR
With heavy roots of earth and sandR
For the very weight of mouldS
Does denote the lover's goldS
In tubs children love to splatterG
Ducking for apples in the waterG
For such were the delights of yoreL
Which soon will cease for evermoreL
At Balmoral Castle Britain's QueenK
Oft celebrated Hallowe'enK
Princess Beatrice lights bonfireG
'Neath the mock witches funeral pyreG
But Highland landlords now do clearT
Land of men to make room for deerT
And where brave race did once aboundU
'Tis wilderness of hunting groundU
But Scotia must not be forgotV
For sake of Chalmers Burns or ScottV
But here upon Canadian soilW
A man may own where he doth toilW
For here each may enjoy the charmX
Of owning fine prairie farmX

James Mcintyre



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