Sport In The Meadows Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis

Rhyme Scheme: ABABCDCDDEDFEDGFGFDH DHIFIFCJCKCLJCMNMNOH OHHHHCHCCPCQPCRCSTSQ HH

Maytime is to the meadows coming inA
And cowslip peeps have gotten eer so bigB
And water blobs and all their golden kinA
Crowd round the shallows by the striding brigB
Daisies and buttercups and ladysmocksC
Are all abouten shining here and thereD
Nodding about their gold and yellow locksC
Like morts of folken flocking at a fairD
The sheep and cows are crowding for a shareD
And snatch the blossoms in such eager hasteE
That basket bearing children running thereD
Do think within their hearts they'll get them allF
And hoot and drive them from their graceless wasteE
As though there wa'n't a cowslip peep to spareD
For they want some for tea and some for wineG
And some to maken up a cuckaballF
To throw across the garland's silken lineG
That reaches oer the street from wall to wallF
Good gracious me how merrily they fareD
One sees a fairer cowslip than the restH
And off they shout the foremost bidding fairD
To get the prize and earnest half and jestH
The next one pops her down and from her handI
Her basket falls and out her cowslips allF
Tumble and litter there the merry bandI
In laughing friendship round about her fallF
To helpen gather up the littered flowersC
That she no loss may mourn And now the windJ
In frolic mood among the merry hoursC
Wakens with sudden start and tosses offK
Some untied bonnet on its dancing wingsC
Away they follow with a scream and laughL
And aye the youngest ever lags behindJ
Till on the deep lake's very bank it hingsC
They shout and catch it and then off they startM
And chase for cowslips merry as beforeN
And each one seems so anxious at the heartM
As they would even get them all and moreN
One climbs a molehill for a bunch of mayO
One stands on tiptoe for a linnet's nestH
And pricks her hand and throws her flowers awayO
And runs for plantin leaves to have it drestH
So do they run abouten all the dayH
And teaze the grass hid larks from getting restH
Scarce give they time in their unruly hasteH
To tie a shoestring that the grass untiesC
And thus they run the meadows' bloom to wasteH
Till even comes and dulls their phantasiesC
When one finds losses out to stifle smilesC
Of silken bonnet strings and utters sighP
Oer garments renten clambering over stilesC
Yet in the morning fresh afield they hieQ
Bidding the last day's troubles all goodbyeP
When red pied cow again their coming hearsC
And ere they clap the gate she tosses upR
Her head and hastens from the sport she fearsC
The old yoe calls her lamb nor cares to stoopS
To crop a cowslip in their companyT
Thus merrily the little noisy troopS
Along the grass as rude marauders hieQ
For ever noisy and for ever gayH
While keeping in the meadows holidayH

John Clare



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