Peter Rugg The Bostonian Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis

Rhyme Scheme: A BCDCEC FGHGIG JKAKLM NOP OQO DRSRTU OUFUAU A UVWVXY ZA2B2A2DA2 UUC2ZD2U UZUZE2Z F2G2UG2H2G2 I2J2UJ2K2J2 LZF2ZL2Z A M2G2N2G2DG2 UE2NE2UE2 L2O2P2O2DO2 UUQ2UR2U UDS2D T2D U2V2ZV2PV2 W2CG2CDC A G2DX2DDD ZDW2DY2D DZ2 A3Z2ZZ2 B3Y2DY2U2Y2 DG2G2G2DG2 DC3LC3UC3 DG2AG2ZG2 D3UUUG2U DAUAUA DUG2UDU DZG2ZDZ PAE3AQ2A

IA
-
The mare is pawing by the oakB
The chaise is cool and wideC
For Peter Rugg the BostonianD
With his little son besideC
The women loiter at the wheelsE
In the pleasant summer tideC
-
And when wilt thou be home FatherF
And when good husband sayG
The cloud hangs heavy on the houseH
What time thou art awayG
He answers straight he answers shortI
At noon of the seventh dayG
-
Fail not to come if God so willJ
And the weather be kind and clearK
Farewell farewell But who am IA
A blockhead rain to fearK
God willing or God unwillingL
I have said it I will be hereM
-
He gathers up the sunburnt boyN
And from the gate is spedO
He shakes the spark from the stones belowP
-
The bloom from overheadO
Till the last roofs of his own townQ
Pass in the morning redO
-
Upon a homely missionD
North unto York he goesR
Through the long highway broidered thickS
With elder blow and roseR
And sleeps in sounds of breakersT
At every twilight's closeU
-
Intense upon his heedless headO
Frowns AgamenticusU
Knowing of Heaven's challengerF
The answer even thusU
The Patience that is hid on highA
Doth stoop to master usU
-
IIA
-
Full light are all his parting dreamsU
Desire is in his brainV
He tightens at the tavern postW
The fiery creature's reinV
Now eat thine apple six years' childX
We face for home againY
-
They had not gone a many mileZ
With nimble heart and tongueA2
When the lone thrush grew silentB2
The walnut woods amongA2
And on the lulled horizonD
A premonition hungA2
-
The babes at Hampton schoolhouseU
The wife with lads at seaU
Search with a level lifted handC2
The distance bodinglyZ
And farmer folk bid pilgrims inD2
Under a safe roof treeU
-
The mowers mark by NewburyU
How low the swallows flyZ
They glance across the southern roadsU
All white and fever dryZ
And the river anxious at the bendE2
Beneath a thinking skyZ
-
But there is one abroad was bornF2
To disbelieve and dareG2
Along the highway furiouslyU
He cuts the purple airG2
The wind leaps on the startled worldH2
As hounds upon a hareG2
-
With brawl and glare and shudder opeI2
The sluices of the stormJ2
The woods break down the sand upblowsU
In blinding volleys warmJ2
The yellow floods in frantic surgeK2
Familiar fields deformJ2
-
From evening until morningL
His skill will not availZ
And as he cheers his youngest bornF2
His cheek is spectre paleZ
For the bonnie mare from courses knownL2
Has drifted like a sailZ
-
IIIA
-
On some wild crag he sees the dawnM2
Unsheathe her scimitarG2
Oh if it be my mother earthN2
And not a foreign starG2
Tell me the way to BostonD
And is it near or farG2
-
One watchman lifts his lamp and laughsU
Ye've many a league to wendE2
The next doth bless the sleeping boyN
From his mad father's endE2
A third upon a drawbridge growlsU
Bear ye to larboard friendE2
-
Forward and backward like a stoneL2
The tides have in their holdO2
He dashes east and then distraughtP2
Darts west as he is toldO2
Peter Rugg the BostonianD
That knew the land of oldO2
-
And journeying and resting scarceU
A melancholy spaceU
Turns to and fro and round and roundQ2
The frenzy in his faceU
And ends alway in angrier moodR2
And in a stranger placeU
-
Lost lost in bayberry thicketsU
Where Plymouth plovers runD
And where the masts of SalemS2
Look lordly in the sunD
-
Lost in the Concord vale and lostT2
By rocky WollastonD
-
Small thanks have they that guide himU2
Awed and aware of blightV2
To hear him shriek denialZ
It sickens them with frightV2
They lied to me a month agoP
With thy same lie to nightV2
-
To night to night as nights succeedW2
He swears at home to bideC
Until pursued with laughterG2
Or fled as soon as spiedC
The weather drench d man is knownD
Over the country sideC
-
IVA
-
The seventh noon's a memoryG2
And autumn's closing inD
The quince is fragrant on the boughX2
And barley chokes the binD
O Boston Boston BostonD
And O my kith and kinD
-
The snow climbs o'er the pasture wallZ
It crackles 'neath the moonD
And now the rustic sows the seedW2
Damp in his heavy shoonD
And now the building jays are loudY2
In canopies of JuneD
-
For season after seasonD
The three are whirled alongZ2
-
Misled by every instinctA3
Of light or scent or songZ2
Yea put them on the surest trailZ
The trail is in the wrongZ2
-
Upon those wheels in any pathB3
The rain will follow loudY2
And he who meets that ghostly manD
Will meet a thunder cloudY2
And whosoever speaks with himU2
May next bespeak his shroudY2
-
Tho' nigh two hundred years have goneD
Doth Peter Rugg the moreG2
A gentle answer and a trueG2
Of living lips imploreG2
Oh show me to my own townD
And to my open doorG2
-
Where shall he see his own townD
Once dear unto his feetC3
The psalms the tankard to the KingL
The beacon's cliffy seatC3
The gabled neighborhood the stocksU
Set in the middle streetC3
-
How shall he know his own townD
If now he clatters thro'G2
Much men and cities change that haveA
Another love to wooG2
And things occult incredibleZ
They find to think and doG2
-
With such new wonders since he wentD3
A broader gossip copesU
Across the crowded triple hillsU
And up the harbor slopesU
Tradition's self for him no moreG2
Remembers watches hopesU
-
But ye O unborn childrenD
For many a race must thriveA
And drip away like iciclesU
Ere Peter Rugg arriveA
If of a sudden to your earsU
His plaint is blown aliveA
-
If nigh the city folding inD
A little lad that criesU
A wet and weary travellerG2
Shall fix you with his eyesU
And from the crazy carriage leanD
To spend his heart in sighsU
-
That I may enter BostonD
Oh help it to befallZ
There would no fear encompass meG2
No evil craft appallZ
Ah but to be in BostonD
GOD WILLING after allZ
-
Ye children tremble not but goP
And lift his bridle braveA
In the one Name the dread NameE3
That doth forgive and saveA
And leads him home to Copp's Hill groundQ2
And to his father's graveA

Louise Imogen Guiney



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