The Irish Cabin Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis
Rhyme Scheme: ABABCDED FGFGHIHI JKJKLJLJ MNOPJJJJ QRQRIIII JIJISTST UJUJVJMJ WIWIXIYI ZJZJA2TA2T IB2IB2JIJI C2JC2JJJJJ JJJJJJJJ A2D2A2D2TBB2B JE2JE2JRJR D2JD2JIJIJ JJJJF2OF2O G2JTJH2JH2J ZJZJJJJJ JJJJI2III I2I2I2I2IOIO EJ2EK2JB2JB2 JJJJL2M2L2N2 O2JO2JBE2BE2 IIIIP2IP2I IQ2IR2IWIW JS2JS2JIJI| Should poverty modest and clean | A |
| E'er please when presented to view | B |
| Should cabin on brown heath or green | A |
| Disclose aught engaging to you | B |
| Should Erin's wild harp soothe the ear | C |
| When touched by such fingers as mine | D |
| Then kindly attentive draw near | E |
| And candidly ponder each line | D |
| - | |
| One day when December's keen breath | F |
| Arrested the sweet running rill | G |
| And Nature seemed frozen in death | F |
| I thoughtfully strolled o'er the hill | G |
| The mustering clouds wore a frown | H |
| The mountains were covered with snow | I |
| And Winter his mantle of brown | H |
| Had spread o'er the landscape below | I |
| - | |
| Thick rattling the footsteps were heard | J |
| Of peasants far down in the vale | K |
| From lakes bogs and marshes debarred | J |
| The wild fowl aloft on the gale | K |
| Loud gabbling and screaming were borne | L |
| Whilst thundering guns hailed the day | J |
| And hares sought the thicket forlorn | L |
| Or wounded ran over the way | J |
| - | |
| No music was heard in the grove | M |
| The blackbird and linnet and thrush | N |
| And goldfinch and sweet cooing dove | O |
| Sat pensively mute in the bush | P |
| The leaves that once wove a green shade | J |
| Lay withered in heaps on the ground | J |
| Chill Winter through grove wood and glade | J |
| Spread sad desolation around | J |
| - | |
| But now the keen north wind 'gan whistle | Q |
| And gusty swept over the sky | R |
| Each hair frozen stood like a bristle | Q |
| And night thickened fast on the eye | R |
| In swift wheeling eddies the snow | I |
| Fell mingling and drifting amain | I |
| And soon all distinction laid low | I |
| As whitening it covered the plain | I |
| - | |
| A light its pale ray faintly shot | J |
| The snow flakes its splendour had shorn | I |
| It came from a neighbouring cot | J |
| Some called it the Cabin of Mourne | I |
| A neat Irish Cabin snow proof | S |
| Well thatched had a good earthen floor | T |
| One chimney in midst of the roof | S |
| One window and one latched door | T |
| - | |
| Escaped from the pitiless storm | U |
| I entered the humble retreat | J |
| Compact was the building and warm | U |
| Its furniture simple and neat | J |
| And now gentle reader approve | V |
| The ardour that glowed in each breast | J |
| As kindly our cottagers strove | M |
| To cherish and welcome their guest | J |
| - | |
| The dame nimbly rose from her wheel | W |
| And brushed off the powdery snow | I |
| Her daughter forsaking the reel | W |
| Ran briskly the cinders to blow | I |
| The children who sat on the hearth | X |
| Leaped up without murmur or frown | I |
| An oaken stool quickly brought forth | Y |
| And smilingly bade me sit down | I |
| - | |
| Whilst grateful sensations of joy | Z |
| O'er all my fond bosom were poured | J |
| Resumed was each former employ | Z |
| And gay thrifty order restored | J |
| The blaze flickered up to the crook | A2 |
| The reel clicked again by the door | T |
| The dame turned her wheel in the nook | A2 |
| And frisked the sweet babes round the floor | T |
| - | |
| Released from the toils of the barn | I |
| His thrifty blithe wife hailed the sire | B2 |
| And hanging his flail by her yarn | I |
| He drew up his stool to the fire | B2 |
| Then smoothing his brow with his hand | J |
| As if he would sweep away sorrow | I |
| He says Let us keep God's command | J |
| And never take thought for the morrow | I |
| - | |
| Brisk turning him round with a smile | C2 |
| And freedom unblended by art | J |
| And affable manners and style | C2 |
| Though simple that reached to my heart | J |
| He said whilst with ardour he glowed | J |
| Kind sir we are poor yet we're blest | J |
| We're all in the steep narrow road | J |
| That leads to the city of rest | J |
| - | |
| 'Tis true I must toil all the day | J |
| And oft suffer cold through the night | J |
| Though silvered all over with grey | J |
| And dimly declining my sight | J |
| And sometimes our raiment and food | J |
| Are scanty ah scanty indeed | J |
| But all work together for good | J |
| So in my blest Bible I read | J |
| - | |
| I also have seen in that Book | A2 |
| Perhaps you can tell me the place | D2 |
| How God on poor sinners does look | A2 |
| In pity and gives them His grace | D2 |
| Yea gives them His grace in vast store | T |
| Sufficient to help them quite through | B |
| Though troubles should whelm them all o'er | B2 |
| And sure this sweet promise is true | B |
| - | |
| Yes true as the snow blows without | J |
| And winds whistle keen through the air | E2 |
| His grace can remove every doubt | J |
| And chase the black gloom of despair | E2 |
| It often supports my weak mind | J |
| And wipes the salt tear from my eye | R |
| It tells me that Jesus is kind | J |
| And died for such sinners as I | R |
| - | |
| I once rolled in wealth without grace | D2 |
| But happiness ne'er was my lot | J |
| Till Christ freely pitied my case | D2 |
| And now I am blest in a cot | J |
| Well knowing things earthly are vain | I |
| Their troubles ne'er puzzle my head | J |
| Convinced that to die will be gain | I |
| I look on the grave as my bed | J |
| - | |
| I look on the grave as my bed | J |
| Where I'll sleep the swift hours away | J |
| Till waked from their slumbers the dead | J |
| Shall rise never more to decay | J |
| Then I with my children and wife | F2 |
| Shall get a bright palace above | O |
| And endlessly clothed with life | F2 |
| Shall dwell in the Eden of love | O |
| - | |
| Then know gentle stranger though poor | G2 |
| We're cheerful contented and blest | J |
| Though princes should pass by our door | T |
| King Jesus is ever our guest | J |
| We feel and we taste and we see | H2 |
| The pleasures which flow from our Lord | J |
| And fearless and wealthy and free | H2 |
| We live on the joys of His word | J |
| - | |
| He ceased and a big tear of joy | Z |
| Rolled glittering down to the ground | J |
| Whilst all having dropped their employ | Z |
| Were buried in silence profound | J |
| A sweet solemn pause long ensued | J |
| Each bosom o'erflowed with delight | J |
| Then heavenly converse renewed | J |
| Beguiled the dull season of night | J |
| - | |
| We talked of the rough narrow way | J |
| That leads to the kingdom of rest | J |
| On Pisgah we stood to survey | J |
| The King in His holiness dressed | J |
| Even Jesus the crucified King | I2 |
| Whose blood in rich crimson does flow | I |
| Clean washing the crimson of sin | I |
| And rinsing it whiter that snow | I |
| - | |
| But later and later it's wearing | I2 |
| And supper they cheerfully bring | I2 |
| The mealy potato and herring | I2 |
| And water just fresh from the spring | I2 |
| They press and they smile we sit down | I |
| First praying the Father of Love | O |
| Our table with blessings to crown | I |
| And feed us with bread from above | O |
| - | |
| The wealthy and bloated may sneer | E |
| And sicken o'er luxury's dishes | J2 |
| And loathe the poor cottager's cheer | E |
| And melt in the heat of their wishes | K2 |
| But luxury's sons are unblest | J |
| A prey to each giddy desire | B2 |
| And hence where they never know rest | J |
| They sink in unquenchable fire | B2 |
| - | |
| Not so the poor cottager's lot | J |
| Who travels the Zion ward road | J |
| He's blest in his neat little cot | J |
| He's rich in the favour of God | J |
| By faith he surmounts every wave | L2 |
| That rolls on this sea of distress | M2 |
| Triumphant he dives in the grave | L2 |
| To rise on the ocean of bliss | N2 |
| - | |
| Now supper is o'er and we raise | O2 |
| Our prayers to the Father of light | J |
| And joyfully hymning His praise | O2 |
| We lovingly bid a good night | J |
| The ground's white the sky's cloudless blue | B |
| The breeze flutters keen through the air | E2 |
| The stars twinkle bright on my view | B |
| As I to my mansion repair | E2 |
| - | |
| All peace my dear cottage be thine | I |
| Nor think that I'll treat you with scorn | I |
| Whoever reads verses of mine | I |
| Shall hear of the Cabin of Mourne | I |
| And had I but musical strains | P2 |
| Though humble and mean in your station | I |
| You should smile whilst the world remains | P2 |
| The pride of the fair Irish Nation | I |
| - | |
| In friendship fair Erin you glow | I |
| Offended you quickly forgive | Q2 |
| Your courage is known to each foe | I |
| Yet foes on your bounty might live | R2 |
| Some faults you however must own | I |
| Dissensions impetuous zeal | W |
| And wild prodigality grown | I |
| Too big for your income and weal | W |
| - | |
| Ah Erin if you would be great | J |
| And happy and wealthy and wise | S2 |
| And trample your sorrows elate | J |
| Contend for our cottager's prize | S2 |
| So error and vice shall decay | J |
| And concord add bliss to renown | I |
| And you shall gleam brighter than day | J |
| The gem of the fair British Crown | I |
Patrick Bronte
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About The Irish Cabin
The Irish Cabin is a poem by Patrick Bronte. This page includes the poem text, poet information, related topics, comments, and similar poems.
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