Semi-centennial Celebration Of The New England Society New York, December 22, 1855 Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis
Rhyme Scheme: AABB CDEE FFGG HHII JJHH KKLL MMNN KKOO PPQQ| New England we love thee no time can erase | A |
| From the hearts of thy children the smile on thy face | A |
| 'T is the mother's fond look of affection and pride | B |
| As she gives her fair son to the arms of his bride | B |
| - | |
| His bride may be fresher in beauty's young flower | C |
| She may blaze in the jewels she brings with her dower | D |
| But passion must chill in Time's pitiless blast | E |
| The one that first loved us will love to the last | E |
| - | |
| You have left the dear land of the lake and the hill | F |
| But its winds and its waters will talk with you still | F |
| Forget not they whisper your love is our debt | G |
| And echo breathes softly We never forget | G |
| - | |
| The banquet's gay splendors are gleaming around | H |
| But your hearts have flown back o'er the waves of the Sound | H |
| They have found the brown home where their pulses were born | I |
| They are throbbing their way through the trees and the corn | I |
| - | |
| There are roofs you remember their glory is fled | J |
| There are mounds in the churchyard one sigh for the dead | J |
| There are wrecks there are ruins all scattered around | H |
| But Earth has no spot like that corner of ground | H |
| - | |
| Come let us be cheerful remember last night | K |
| How they cheered us and never mind meant it all right | K |
| To night we harm nothing we love in the lump | L |
| Here's a bumper to Maine in the juice of the pump | L |
| - | |
| Here 's to all the good people wherever they be | M |
| Who have grown in the shade of the liberty tree | M |
| We all love its leaves and its blossoms and fruit | N |
| But pray have a care of the fence round its root | N |
| - | |
| We should like to talk big it's a kind of a right | K |
| When the tongue has got loose and the waistband grown tight | K |
| But as pretty Miss Prudence remarked to her beau | O |
| On its own heap of compost no biddy should crow | O |
| - | |
| Enough There are gentlemen waiting to talk | P |
| Whose words are to mine as the flower to the stalk | P |
| Stand by your old mother whatever befall | Q |
| God bless all her children Good night to you all | Q |
Oliver Wendell Holmes
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