The Fools Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis
Rhyme Scheme: ABABA CDCDC EFEFE GHIHG JDKDK LALAL DADAD MNMNM OPPQ RSRSR| BELOW the street was hoarse with cries | A |
| With groan of carts and scuffling feet | B |
| With laughter worse than blasphemies | A |
| Was choked with dust and blind with heat | B |
| This room was still too still for peace | A |
| - | |
| It heard the livid words we said | C |
| Of hate and passion watched us where | D |
| I sat as one beside the dead | C |
| You lay with all your glorious hair | D |
| Flung on the crazy bed | C |
| - | |
| The moment's passion ended brought | E |
| Ah child to you what did it bring | F |
| What could it but one hideous thought | E |
| To us so tired of everything | F |
| And hating what we sought | E |
| - | |
| So tired of all this grey room meant | G |
| Of life together shackled cold | H |
| Or bound in flame so different | I |
| From the swift white desire of old | H |
| The old divine consent | G |
| - | |
| Poor room so meanly intimate | J |
| Our dirty clothes sprawled on a chair | D |
| Combs candle ends and grimy plate | K |
| Littered the table paper and hair | D |
| Forlornely choked the grate | K |
| - | |
| And I so passionate you such | L |
| A wild sweet plunderer of bliss | A |
| Soon fallen in our own folly's clutch | L |
| Finding how wrong how mad it is | A |
| To know to love too much | L |
| - | |
| You rose but with no woman's care | D |
| For all the beauty that is hers | A |
| Pent up your out burst storm of hair | D |
| And fetched your cloak and found your purse | A |
| And matched my sullen stare | D |
| - | |
| Wild words so often said before | M |
| Escape us in the old fierce way | N |
| You cried I shall return no more | M |
| I said I shall no longer stay | N |
| You closed the grumbling door | M |
| - | |
| The mirror grinned They are still one | O |
| The cupboard gasped Their clothes are here | P |
| The ghastly bed said with a leer | P |
| I shall not sleep alone | Q |
| - | |
| They knew what took us years to learn | R |
| That Habit terrible and slow | S |
| Doth Love and Hate alike inurn | R |
| They knew too well I should not go | S |
| They knew you would return | R |
Muriel Stuart
(1)
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