The September Gale Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis
Rhyme Scheme: ABCBDEFE GEGEHBIB JKLKMBNB OEKEKKPK QRSRTKTK KRKRKRUR KBVBWKXK| I'M not a chicken I have seen | A |
| Full many a chill September | B |
| And though I was a youngster then | C |
| That gale I well remember | B |
| The day before my kite string snapped | D |
| And I my kite pursuing | E |
| The wind whisked off my palm leaf hat | F |
| For me two storms were brewing | E |
| - | |
| It came as quarrels sometimes do | G |
| When married folks get clashing | E |
| There was a heavy sigh or two | G |
| Before the fire was flashing | E |
| A little stir among the clouds | H |
| Before they rent asunder | B |
| A little rocking of the trees | I |
| And then came on the thunder | B |
| - | |
| Lord how the ponds and rivers boiled | J |
| They seemed like bursting craters | K |
| And oaks lay scattered on the ground | L |
| As if they were p'taters | K |
| And all above was in a howl | M |
| And all below a clatter | B |
| The earth was like a frying pan | N |
| Or some such hissing matter | B |
| - | |
| It chanced to be our washing day | O |
| And all our things were drying | E |
| The storm came roaring through the lines | K |
| And set them all a flying | E |
| I saw the shirts and petticoats | K |
| Go riding off like witches | K |
| I lost ah bitterly I wept | P |
| I lost my Sunday breeches | K |
| - | |
| I saw them straddling through the air | Q |
| Alas too late to win them | R |
| I saw them chase the clouds as if | S |
| The devil had been in them | R |
| They were my darlings and my pride | T |
| My boyhood's only riches | K |
| Farewell farewell I faintly cried | T |
| My breeches O my breeches | K |
| - | |
| That night I saw them in my dreams | K |
| How changed from what I knew them | R |
| The dews had steeped their faded threads | K |
| The winds had whistled through them | R |
| I saw the wide and ghastly rents | K |
| Where demon claws had torn them | R |
| A hole was in their amplest part | U |
| As if an imp had worn them | R |
| - | |
| I have had many happy years | K |
| And tailors kind and clever | B |
| But those young pantaloons have gone | V |
| Forever and forever | B |
| And not till fate has cut the last | W |
| Of all my earthly stitches | K |
| This aching heart shall cease to mourn | X |
| My loved my long lost breeches | K |
Oliver Wendell Holmes
(1)
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About The September Gale
The September Gale 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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