The Old Man's Lament Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis
Rhyme Scheme: ABABCDCDD EFEBGHGHH IJKJKLILL MNMNCHCHH| Youth has no fear of ill by no cloudy days annoyed | A |
| But the old man's all hath fled and his hopes have met their doom | B |
| The bud hath burst to flower and the flower been long destroyed | A |
| The root also is withered I no more can look for bloom | B |
| So I have said my say and I have had my day | C |
| And sorrow like a young storm creeps dark upon my brow | D |
| Hopes like to summer clouds have all blown far away | C |
| And the world's sunny side is turned over with me now | D |
| And I am left a lame bird upon a withered bough | D |
| - | |
| I look upon the past 't is as black as winter days | E |
| But the worst is not yet over there are blacker days to come | F |
| O I would I had but known of the wide world's many ways | E |
| But youth is ever blind so I e'en must meet my doom | B |
| Joy once gave brightest forecasts of prospects that are past | G |
| But now like a looking glass that's turned to the wall | H |
| Life is nothing but a blank and the sunny shining past | G |
| Is overcast in glooms that my every hope enthrall | H |
| While troubles daily thicken in the wind ere they fall | H |
| - | |
| Life smiled upon me once as the sun upon the rose | I |
| My heart so free and open guessed in every face a friend | J |
| Though the sweetest flower must fade and the sweetest season close | K |
| Yet I never gave it thought that my happiness would end | J |
| Till the warmest seeming friends grew the coldest at the close | K |
| As the sun from lonely night hides its haughty shining face | L |
| Yet I could not think them gone for they turned not open foes | I |
| While memory fondly mused former favours to retrace | L |
| So I turned but only found that my shadow kept its place | L |
| - | |
| And this is nought but common life which everybody finds | M |
| As well as I or more's the luck of those that better speed | N |
| I'll mete my lot to bear with the lot of kindred minds | M |
| And grudge not those who say they for sorrow have no need | N |
| Why should I when I know that it will not aid a nay | C |
| For Summer is the season even then the little fly | H |
| Finds friends enow indeed both for leisure and for play | C |
| But on the winter window it must crawl alone to die | H |
| Such is life and such am I a wounded stricken fly | H |
John Clare
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