The Child-world Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis

Rhyme Scheme: ABCCDDEECCFFGGHIJJKK GGLLFFMMNNGGOP GFKKQRSSTTLLEEUVWWGG FFXX GGYYAAZZGGF SSA2A2AAAAB2B2FFGG AAC2C2 D2D2E2E2 AAF2F2 C2C2E2E2 AAGGG2G2AAAAH2H2AAI2 I2FFEEAAJ2J2MMK2K2GG F2F2F2F2F2F2B2B2FFF2 F2GGL2L2

A Child World yet a wondrous world no lessA
To those who knew its boundless happinessB
A simple old frame house eight rooms in allC
Set just one side the center of a smallC
But very hopeful Indiana townD
The upper story looking squarely downD
Upon the main street and the main highwayE
From East to West historic in its dayE
Known as The National Road old timers allC
Who linger yet will happily recallC
It as the scheme and handiwork as wellF
As property of 'Uncle Sam ' and tellF
Of its importance 'long and long aforeG
Railroads wuz ever dreamp ' of ' FurthermoreG
The reminiscent first InhabitantsH
Will make that old road blossom with romanceI
Of snowy caravans in long paradeJ
Of covered vehicles of every gradeJ
From ox cart of most primitive designK
To Conestoga wagons with their fineK
Deep chested six horse teams in heavy gearG
High names and chiming bells to childish earG
And eye entrancing as the glittering trainL
Of some sun smitten pageant of old SpainL
And in like spirit haply they will tellF
You of the roadside forests and the yellF
Of 'wolfs' and 'painters ' in the long night rideM
And 'screechin' catamounts' on every sideM
Of stagecoach days highwaymen and strange crimesN
And yet unriddled mysteries of the timesN
Called 'Good Old ' 'And why 'Good Old' ' once a rareG
Old chronicler was asked who brushed the hairG
Out of his twinkling eyes and said 'Well JohnO
They're 'good old times' because they're dead and gone 'P
-
The old home site was portioned into threeG
Distinctive lots The front one nativelyF
Facing to southward broad and gaudy fineK
With lilac dahlia rose and flowering vineK
The dwelling stood in and behind that andQ
Upon the alley north and south left handR
The old wood house half trimly stacked with woodS
And half a work shop where a workbench stoodS
Steadfastly through all seasons Over itT
Along the wall hung compass brace and bitT
And square and drawing knife and smoothing planeL
And little jack plane too the children's vainL
Possession by pretense in fancy theyE
Manipulating it in endless playE
Turning out countless curls and loops of brightU
Fine satin shavings Rapture infiniteV
Shelved quilting frames the toolchest the old boxW
Of refuse nails and screws a rough gun stock'sW
Outline in 'curly maple' and a pairG
Of clamps and old krout cutter hanging thereG
Some 'patterns ' in thin wood of shield and scrollF
Hung higher with a neat 'cane fishing pole'F
And careful tackle all securely outX
Of reach of children rummaging aboutX
-
Beside the wood house with broad branches freeG
Yet close above the roof an apple treeG
Known as 'The Prince's Harvest' Magic phraseY
That was a boy's own tree in many waysY
Its girth and height meet both for the caressA
Of his bare legs and his ambitiousnessA
And then its apples humoring his whimZ
Seemed just to fairly hurry ripe for himZ
Even in June impetuous as heG
They dropped to meet him halfway up the treeG
And O their bruised sweet faces where they fellF
And ho the lips that feigned to 'kiss them well '-
-
'The Old Sweet Apple Tree ' a stalwart stoodS
In fairly sympathetic neighborhoodS
Of this wild princeling with his early goldA2
To toss about so lavishly nor holdA2
In bounteous hoard to overbrim at onceA
All Nature's lap when came the Autumn monthsA
Under the spacious shade of this the eyesA
Of swinging children saw swift changing skiesA
Of blue and green with sunshine shot betweenB2
And 'when the old cat died' they saw but greenB2
And then there was a cherry tree We allF
And severally will yet recallF
From our lost youth in gentlest memoryG
The blessed fact There was a cherry treeG
-
There was a cherry tree Its bloomy snowsA
Cool even now the fevered sight that knowsA
No more its airy visions of pure joyC2
As when you were a boyC2
-
There was a cherry tree The Bluejay setD2
His blue against its white O blue as jetD2
He seemed there then But now Whoever knewE2
He was so pale a blueE2
-
There was a cherry tree Our child eyes sawA
The miracle Its pure white snows did thawA
Into a crimson fruitage far too sweetF2
But for a boy to eatF2
-
There was a cherry tree give thanks and joyC2
There was a bloom of snow There was a boyC2
There was a Bluejay of the realest blueE2
And fruit for both of youE2
-
Then the old garden with the apple treesA
Grouped 'round the margin and 'a stand of bees'A
By the 'white winter pearmain' and a rowG
Of currant bushes and a quince or soG
The old grape arbor in the center byG2
The pathway to the stable with the styG2
Behind it and upon it cootering flocksA
Of pigeons and the cutest 'martin box'A
Made like a sure enough house with roof and doorsA
And windows in it and veranda floorsA
And balusters all 'round it yes and atH2
Each end a chimney painted red at thatH2
And penciled white to look like little bricksA
And to cap all the builder's cunning tricksA
Two tiny little lightning rods were runI2
Straight up their sides and twinkled in the sunI2
Who built it Nay no answer but a smileF
It may be you can guess who afterwhileF
Home in his stall 'Old Sorrel' munched his hayE
And oats and corn and switched the flies awayE
In a repose of patience good to seeA
And earnest of the gentlest pedigreeA
With half pathetic eye sometimes he gazedJ2
Upon the gambols of a colt that grazedJ2
Around the edges of the lot outsideM
And kicked at nothing suddenly and triedM
To act grown up and graceful and high bredK2
But dropped k'whop and scraped the buggy shedK2
Leaving a tuft of woolly foxy hairG
Under the sharp end of a gate hinge thereG
Then all ignobly scrambling to his feetF2
And whinneying a whinney like a bleatF2
He would pursue himself around the lotF2
And do the whole thing over like as notF2
Ah what a life of constant fear and dreadF2
And flop and squawk and flight the chickens ledF2
Above the fences either side were seenB2
The neighbor houses set in plots of greenB2
Dooryards and greener gardens tree and wallF
Alike whitewashed and order in it allF
The scythe hooked in the tree fork and the spadeF2
And hoe and rake and shovel all when laidF2
Aside were in their places ready forG
The hand of either the possessor orG
Of any neighbor welcome to the loanL2
Of any tool he might not chance to ownL2

James Whitcomb Riley



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