The Deacon's Masterpiece Or, The Wonderful "one-hoss Shay": A Logical Story Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis
Rhyme Scheme: AAAAABBA CCCDDDDAA EFGGGGHHH IJDDDDDDKK LLLMMMMMNNMMMIIIOOOI I MMAAAAA PPDDNNCC QRRSSTT AAAAUUUAAVVVVHH CCAAAAWWWGGGGXXXPPPP AAYY AA| Have you heard of the wonderful one hoss shay | A |
| That was built in such a logical way | A |
| It ran a hundred years to a day | A |
| And then of a sudden it ah but stay | A |
| I'll tell you what happened without delay | A |
| Scaring the parson into fits | B |
| Frightening people out of their wits | B |
| Have you ever heard of that I say | A |
| - | |
| Seventeen hundred and fifty five | C |
| Georgius Secundus was then alive | C |
| Snuffy old drone from the German hive | C |
| That was the year when Lisbon town | D |
| Saw the earth open and gulp her down | D |
| And Braddock's army was done so brown | D |
| Left without a scalp to its crown | D |
| It was on the terrible Earthquake day | A |
| That the Deacon finished the one hoss shay | A |
| - | |
| Now in building of chaises I tell you what | E |
| There is always somewhere a weakest spot | F |
| In hub tire felloe in spring or thill | G |
| In panel or crossbar or floor or sill | G |
| In screw bolt thoroughbrace lurking still | G |
| Find it somewhere you must and will | G |
| Above or below or within or without | H |
| And that's the reason beyond a doubt | H |
| A chaise breaks down but does n't wear out | H |
| - | |
| But the Deacon swore as Deacons do | I |
| With an I dew vum or an I tell yeou | J |
| He would build one shay to beat the taown | D |
| 'N' the keounty 'n' all the kentry raoun' | D |
| It should be so built that it could n' break daown | D |
| Fur said the Deacon 't 's mighty plain | D |
| Thut the weakes' place mus' stan' the strain | D |
| 'N' the way t' fix it uz I maintain | D |
| Is only jest | K |
| T' make that place uz strong uz the rest | K |
| - | |
| So the Deacon inquired of the village folk | L |
| Where he could find the strongest oak | L |
| That could n't be split nor bent nor broke | L |
| That was for spokes and floor and sills | M |
| He sent for lancewood to make the thills | M |
| The crossbars were ash from the straightest trees | M |
| The panels of white wood that cuts like cheese | M |
| But lasts like iron for things like these | M |
| The hubs of logs from the Settler's ellum | N |
| Last of its timber they could n't sell 'em | N |
| Never an axe had seen their chips | M |
| And the wedges flew from between their lips | M |
| Their blunt ends frizzled like celery tips | M |
| Step and prop iron bolt and screw | I |
| Spring tire axle and linchpin too | I |
| Steel of the finest bright and blue | I |
| Thoroughbrace bison skin thick and wide | O |
| Boot top dasher from tough old hide | O |
| Found in the pit when the tanner died | O |
| That was the way he put her through | I |
| There said the Deacon naow she'll dew | I |
| - | |
| Do I tell you I rather guess | M |
| She was a wonder and nothing less | M |
| Colts grew horses beards turned gray | A |
| Deacon and deaconess dropped away | A |
| Children and grandchildren where were they | A |
| But there stood the stout old one hoss shay | A |
| As fresh as on Lisbon earthquake day | A |
| - | |
| EIGHTEEN HUNDRED it came and found | P |
| The Deacon's masterpiece strong and sound | P |
| Eighteen hundred increased by ten | D |
| Hahnsum kerridge they called it then | D |
| Eighteen hundred and twenty came | N |
| Running as usual much the same | N |
| Thirty and forty at last arrive | C |
| And then come fifty and FIFTY FIVE | C |
| - | |
| Little of all we value here | Q |
| Wakes on the morn of its hundreth year | R |
| Without both feeling and looking queer | R |
| In fact there's nothing that keeps its youth | S |
| So far as I know but a tree and truth | S |
| This is a moral that runs at large | T |
| Take it You're welcome No extra charge | T |
| - | |
| FIRST OF NOVEMBER the Earthquake day | A |
| There are traces of age in the one hoss shay | A |
| A general flavor of mild decay | A |
| But nothing local as one may say | A |
| There could n't be for the Deacon's art | U |
| Had made it so like in every part | U |
| That there was n't a chance for one to start | U |
| For the wheels were just as strong as the thills | A |
| And the floor was just as strong as the sills | A |
| And the panels just as strong as the floor | V |
| And the whipple tree neither less nor more | V |
| And the back crossbar as strong as the fore | V |
| And spring and axle and hub encore | V |
| And yet as a whole it is past a doubt | H |
| In another hour it will be worn out | H |
| - | |
| First of November 'Fifty five | C |
| This morning the parson takes a drive | C |
| Now small boys get out of the way | A |
| Here comes the wonderful one horse shay | A |
| Drawn by a rat tailed ewe necked bay | A |
| Huddup said the parson Off went they | A |
| The parson was working his Sunday's text | W |
| Had got to fifthly and stopped perplexed | W |
| At what the Moses was coming next | W |
| All at once the horse stood still | G |
| Close by the meet'n' house on the hill | G |
| First a shiver and then a thrill | G |
| Then something decidedly like a spill | G |
| And the parson was sitting upon a rock | X |
| At half past nine by the meet'n house clock | X |
| Just the hour of the Earthquake shock | X |
| What do you think the parson found | P |
| When he got up and stared around | P |
| The poor old chaise in a heap or mound | P |
| As if it had been to the mill and ground | P |
| You see of course if you're not a dunce | A |
| How it went to pieces all at once | A |
| All at once and nothing first | Y |
| Just as bubbles do when they burst | Y |
| - | |
| End of the wonderful one hoss shay | A |
| Logic is logic That's all I say | A |
Oliver Wendell Holmes
(1)
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About The Deacon's Masterpiece Or, The Wonderful "one-hoss Shay": A Logical Story
The Deacon's Masterpiece Or, The Wonderful "one-hoss Shay": A Logical Story is a poem by Oliver Wendell Holmes. This page includes the poem text, poet information, related topics, comments, and similar poems.
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