The Ill-married Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis

Rhyme Scheme: AAABCCCBDEFGHHHIIHHJ JKKKKLLMMNNHHHOHOPKQ QPHHKRSDHHTTHHHUUHMM HK

If worth were not a thing more rareA
Than beauty in this planet fairA
There would be then less need of careA
About the contracts Hymen closesB
But beauty often is the baitC
To love that only ends in hateC
And many hence repent too lateC
Of wedding thorns from wooing rosesB
My tale makes one of these poor fellowsD
Who sought relief from marriage vowsE
Send back again his tedious spouseF
Contentious covetous and jealousG
With nothing pleased or satisfiedH
This restless comfort killing brideH
Some fault in every one descriedH
Her good man went to bed too soonI
Or lay in bed till almost noonI
Too cold too hot too black too whiteH
Were on her tongue from morn till nightH
The servants mad and madder grewJ
The husband knew not what to doJ
'Twas 'Dear you never think or care 'K
And 'Dear that price we cannot bear 'K
And 'Dear you never stay at home 'K
And 'Dear I wish you would just come 'K
Till finally such ceaseless dearingL
Upon her husband's patience wearingL
Back to her sire's he sent his wifeM
To taste the sweets of country lifeM
To dance at will the country jigsN
And feed the turkeys geese and pigsN
In course of time he hoped his brideH
Might have her temper mollifiedH
Which hope he duly put to testH
His wife recall'd said heO
'How went with you your rural restH
From vexing cares and fashions freeO
Its peace and quiet did you gainP
Its innocence without a stain 'K
'Enough of all ' said she 'but thenQ
To see those idle worthless menQ
Neglect the flocks it gave me painP
I told them plainly what I thoughtH
And thus their hatred quickly boughtH
For which I do not care not I 'K
'Ah madam ' did her spouse replyR
'If still your temper's so moroseS
And tongue so virulent that thoseD
Who only see you morn and nightH
Are quite grown weary of the sightH
What then must be your servants' caseT
Who needs must see you face to faceT
Throughout the dayH
And what must be the harder lotH
Of him I prayH
Whose days and nightsU
With you must be by marriage rightsU
Return you to your father's cotH
If I recall you in my lifeM
Or even wish for such a wifeM
Let Heaven in my hereafter sendH
Two such to tease me without end 'K

Jean De La Fontaine



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