To My Old Oak Table Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis

Rhyme Scheme: AABBCCDDEEFFGH BBIIJJKKLLMMNBOO PPQQRRSSTTUUIIVVWWBB XXYYUUBB AAZZYYDDA2A2B2B2C2C2 ED2E2E2GGF2G2IIH2H2 IIBBIII2I2J2J2K2L2M2 M2N2O2BBIII2I2P2Q2GH ZZR2R2B2B2ZZBBS2S2WW T2U2 V2

Friend of my peaceful days substantial friendA
Whom wealth can never change nor int'rest bendA
I love thee like a child Thou wert to meB
The dumb companion of my miseryB
And oftner of my joys then as I spokeC
I shar'd thy sympathy Old Heart of OakC
For surely when my labour ceas'd at nightD
With trembling feverish hands and aching sightD
The draught that cheer'd me and subdu'd my careE
On thy broad shoulders thou wert proud to bearE
O'er thee with expectation's fire elateF
I've sat and ponder'd on my future fateF
On thee with winter muffins for thy storeG
I've lean'd and quite forgot that I was poorH
-
Where dropp'd the acorn that gave birth to theeB
Can'st thou trace back thy line of ancestryB
We're match'd old friend and let us not repineI
Darkness o'erhangs thy origin and mineI
Both may be truly honourable yetJ
We'll date our honours from the day we metJ
When of my worldly wealth the parent stockK
Right welcome up the Thames from Woolwich DockK
Thou cam'st when hopes ran high and love was youngL
But soon our olive branches round thee sprungL
Soon came the days that tried a faithful wifeM
The noise of children and the cares of lifeM
Then midst the threat'nings of a wintry skyN
That cough which blights the bud of infancyB
The dread of parents Rest's inveterate foeO
Came like a plague and turn'd my songs to woeO
-
Rest without thee what strength can long surviveP
What spirit keep the flame of Hope aliveP
The midnight murmur of the cradle gaveQ
Sounds of despair and chilly as the graveQ
We felt its undulating blast ariseR
Midst whisper'd sorrows and ten thousand sighsR
Expiring embers warn'd us each to sleepS
By turns to watch alone by turns to weepS
By turns to hear and keep from starting wildT
The sad faint wailings of a dying childT
But Death obedient to Heav'n's high commandU
Withdrew his jav'lin and unclench'd his handU
The little sufferers triumph'd over painI
Their mother smil'd and bade me hope againI
Yet Care gain'd ground Exertion triumph'd lessV
Thick fell the gathering terrors of DistressV
Anxiety and Griefs without a nameW
Had made their dreadful inroads on my frameW
The creeping Dropsy cold as cold could beB
Unnerv'd my arm and bow'd my head to theeB
Thou to thy trust old friend hast not been trueX
These eyes the bitterest tears they ever knewX
Let fall upon thee now all wip'd awayY
But what from memory shall wipe out that dayY
The great the wealthy of my native landU
To whom a guinea is a grain of sandU
I thought upon them for my thoughts were freeB
But all unknown were then my woes and meB
-
Still Resignation was my dearest friendA
And Reason pointed to a glorious endA
With anxious sighs a parent's hopes and prideZ
I wish'd to live I trust I could have diedZ
But winter's clouds pursu'd their stormy wayY
And March brought sunshine with the length'ning dayY
And bade my heart arise that morn and nightD
Now throbb'd with irresistible delightD
Delightful 'twas to leave disease behindA2
And feel the renovation of the mindA2
To lead abroad upborne on Pleasure's wingB2
Our children midst the glories of the springB2
Our fellow sufferers our only wealthC2
To gather daisies in the breeze of healthC2
-
'Twas then too when our prospects grew so fairE
And Sabbath bells announc'd the morning pray'rD2
Beneath that vast gigantic dome we bow'dE2
That lifts its flaming cross above the cloudE2
Had gain'd the centre of the checquer'd floorG
That instant with reverberating roarG
Burst forth the pealing organ mute we stoodF2
The strong sensation boiling through my bloodG2
Rose in a storm of joy allied to painI
I wept and worshipp'd GOD and wept againI
And felt amidst the fervor of my praiseH2
The sweet assurances of better daysH2
-
In that gay season honest friend of mineI
I mark'd the brilliant sun upon thee shineI
Imagination took her flights so freeB
Home was delicious with my book and theeB
The purchas'd nosegay or brown ears of cornI
Were thy gay plumes upon a summer's mornI
Awakening memory that disdains controlI2
They spoke the darling language of my soulI2
They whisper'd tales of joy of peace of truthJ2
And conjur'd back the sunshine of my youthJ2
Fancy presided at the joyful birthK2
I pour'd the torrent of my feelings forthL2
Conscious of truth in Nature's humble trackM2
And wrote The Farmer's Boy upon thy backM2
Enough old friend thou'rt mine and shalt partakeN2
While I have pen to write or tongue to speakO2
Whatever fortune deals me Part with theeB
No not till death shall set my spirit freeB
For know should plenty crown my life's declineI
A most important duty may be thineI
Then guard me from Temptation's base controlI2
From apathy and littleness of soulI2
The sight of thy old frame so rough so rodeP2
Shall twitch the sleeve of nodding GratitudeQ2
Shall teach me but to venerate the moreG
Honest Oak Tables and their guests the poorH
Teach me unjust distinctions to derideZ
And falsehoods gender'd in the brain of PrideZ
Shall give to Fancy still the cheerful hourR2
To Intellect its freedom and its powerR2
To Hospitality's enchanting ringB2
A charm which nothing but thyself can bringB2
The man who would not look with honest prideZ
On the tight bark that stemm'd the roaring tideZ
And bore him when he bow'd the trembling kneeB
Home through the mighty perils of the seaB
I love him not He ne'er shall be my guestS2
Nor sip my cup nor witness how I'm blestS2
Nor lean to bring my honest friend to shameW
A sacrilegious elbow on thy frameW
But thou through life a monitor shalt proveT2
Sacred to Truth to Poetry and LoveU2
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DecV2

Robert Bloomfield



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To My Old Oak Table is a poem by Robert Bloomfield. This page includes the poem text, poet information, related topics, comments, and similar poems.



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