A Strange Stooary Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis
Rhyme Scheme: AAABAB CCCDCD BBEFBF GGGGGG FFFHFH FFFIFI JKJFKF FFFGFF GGGLGL GGGGGG GGGGGG FFFEFE GGGFGF FFFMFM GGGAGA EEEFEF MMMEME GGGFGF FFFAFA FFFEE GGGMGM FFFGFG| Aw know some fowk will call it crime | A |
| To put sich stooaries into ryhme | A |
| But yet contentedly aw chime | A |
| Mi simple ditty | B |
| An if it's all a waste o' time | A |
| The moor's the pity | B |
| - | |
| - | |
| - | |
| O'er Wibsey Slack aw coom last neet | C |
| Wi' reekin heead and weary feet | C |
| A strange strange chap aw chonced to meet | C |
| He made mi start | D |
| But pluckin up aw did him greet | C |
| Wi' beatin heart | D |
| - | |
| His dress wor black as black could be | B |
| An th' latest fashion aw could see | B |
| But yet they hung soa dawderly | E |
| Like suits i' shops | F |
| Bi'th' heart yo mud ha putten three | B |
| Sich legs i'th' slops | F |
| - | |
| Says aw Owd trump it's rayther late | G |
| For one 'at's dress'd i' sich a state | G |
| Across this Slack to mak ther gate | G |
| Is ther some pairty | G |
| Or does ta allus dress that rate | G |
| Black duds o'th' wairty | G |
| - | |
| He twisted raand as if to see | F |
| What sooart o' covy aw could be | F |
| An grinned wi' sich a maath at me | F |
| It threw me sick | H |
| Lor saves aw cried an is it thee | F |
| 'At's call'd owd Nick | H |
| - | |
| But when aw luk'd up into th' place | F |
| Whear yo'd expect to find a face | F |
| A awful craytur met mi gaze | F |
| It took mi puff | I |
| Gooid chap aw sed please let me pass | F |
| Aw've seen enuff | I |
| - | |
| Then bendin cloise daan to mi ear | J |
| He tell'd me 'at aw'd nowt to fear | K |
| An soa aw stop't a bit to hear | J |
| What things he'd ax | F |
| But as he spake his teeth rang clear | K |
| Like knick a nacks | F |
| - | |
| A'a Jack he sed aw'm cap't wi' thee | F |
| Net knowin sich a chap as me | F |
| For oft when tha's been on a spree | F |
| Aw've been thear too | G |
| But tho' aw've reckon'd safe o' thee | F |
| Tha's just edged throo | F |
| - | |
| Mi name is Deeath tha needn't start | G |
| An put thi hand upon thi heart | G |
| For tha may see 'at aw've noa dart | G |
| Wi' which to strike | L |
| Let's sit an tawk afoor we part | G |
| O'th edge o'th dyke | L |
| - | |
| Nay nay that tale wea'nt do owd lad | G |
| For Bobby Burns tells me tha had | G |
| A scythe hung o'er thi shoulder Gad | G |
| Tha worn't dress'd | G |
| I' fine black clooath tha wore a plad | G |
| Across thi breast | G |
| - | |
| Well Jack he said thar't capt no daat | G |
| To find me wanderin abaght | G |
| But th' fact is lad 'at aw'm withaat | G |
| A job to do | G |
| Mi scythe aw've had to put up th' spaat | G |
| Mi arrows too | G |
| - | |
| Yo dunnot mean to tell to me | F |
| 'At fowk noa moor will ha to dee | F |
| Noa hark a minnit an tha'll see | F |
| When th' truth aw tell | E |
| Fowk do withaat mi darts an me | F |
| Thev kill thersel | E |
| - | |
| They do it too at sich a rate | G |
| Wol mi owd system's aght o' date | G |
| What we call folly they call fate | G |
| An all ther pleasur | F |
| Is ha to bring ther life's estate | G |
| To th' shortest measur | F |
| - | |
| They waste ther time an waste ther gains | F |
| O' stuff 'at's brew'd throo poisoned grains | F |
| Throo morn to neet they keep ther brains | F |
| For ivver swimmin | M |
| An if a bit o' sense remains | F |
| It's fun i'th wimmen | M |
| - | |
| Tha'll find noa doctors wi ther craft | G |
| Nor yet misen wi' scythe or shaft | G |
| E'er made as monny deead or daft | G |
| As Gin an Rum | A |
| An if aw've warn'd fowk then they've lafft | G |
| At me bi gum | A |
| - | |
| But if they thus goa on to swill | E |
| They'll not want Wilfrid Lawson's bill | E |
| For give a druffen chap his fill | E |
| An sooin off pops he | F |
| An teetotal fowk moor surely still | E |
| Will dee wi' th' dropsy | F |
| - | |
| It's a queer thing 'at sich a nation | M |
| Can't use a bit o' moderation | M |
| But one lot rush to ther damnation | M |
| Throo love o'th' bottle | E |
| Wol others think to win salvation | M |
| Wi' bein teetotal | E |
| - | |
| Wi' booany neive he stroked mi heead | G |
| Tak my advice young chap he sed | G |
| Let liquors be sup ale asteead | G |
| An tha'll be better | F |
| An dunnot treat th' advice tha's heard | G |
| Like a deead letter | F |
| - | |
| Why Deeath aw sed fowk allus say | F |
| Yo come to fotch us chaps away | F |
| But this seems strange soa tell me pray | F |
| Ha wor't yo coom | A |
| Wor it to tell us keep away | F |
| Yo hav'nt room | A |
| - | |
| Stop whear tha art Jack if tha dar | F |
| But tha'll find spirits worse bi far | F |
| Sarved aght i' monny a public bar | F |
| 'At's thowt quite lawful | E |
| Nor what tha'll find i'th' places parsons call soa awful | E |
| - | |
| Gooid bye he sed an off he shot | G |
| Leavin behind him sich a lot | G |
| O' smook as blue as it wor hot | G |
| It set me stewin | M |
| Soa hooam aw cut an' gate a pot | G |
| Ov us own brewin | M |
| - | |
| - | |
| - | |
| If when yo've read this stooary throo | F |
| Yo daat if it's exactly true | F |
| Yo'll nobbut do as others do | F |
| Yo may depend on't | G |
| Blow me aw ommost daat it too | F |
| So thear's an end on't | G |
John Hartley
(1)
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