The Downfall Of The Gael Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis

Rhyme Scheme: ABAB CDCD EFEF GFGF HIHI JHKH HHHH IIII DHDH KHKH LFLF MNMN HOHO PQPQ RSRT UPUP VIVI WIWI EMEM

My heart is in woeA
And my soul deep in troubleB
For the mighty are lowA
And abased are the nobleB
-
The Sons of the GaelC
Are in exile and mourningD
Worn weary and paleC
As spent pilgrims returningD
-
Or men who in flightE
From the field of disasterF
Beseech the black nightE
On their flight to fall fasterF
-
Or seamen aghastG
When their planks gape asunderF
And the waves fierce and fastG
Tumble through in hoarse thunderF
-
Or men whom we seeH
That have got their death omenI
Such wretches are weH
In the chains of our foemenI
-
Our courage is fearJ
Our nobility vilenessH
Our hope is despairK
And our comeliness foulnessH
-
There is mist on our headsH
And a cloud chill and hoaryH
Of black sorrow shedsH
An eclipse on our gloryH
-
From Boyne to the LinnI
Has the mandate been givenI
That the children of FinnI
From their country be drivenI
-
That the sons of the kingD
Oh the treason and maliceH
Shall no more ride the ringD
In their own native valleysH
-
No more shall repairK
Where the hill foxes tarryH
Nor forth to the airK
Fling the hawk at her quarryH
-
For the plain shall be brokeL
By the share of the strangerF
And the stone mason's strokeL
Tell the woods of their dangerF
-
The green hills and shoreM
Be with white keeps disfiguredN
And the Mote of RathmoreM
Be the Saxon churl's haggardN
-
The land of the lakesH
Shall no more know the prospectO
Of valleys and brakesH
So transformed is her aspectO
-
The Gael cannot tellP
In the uprooted wildwoodQ
And the red ridgy dellP
The old nurse of his childhoodQ
-
The nurse of his youthR
Is in doubt as she views himS
If the wan wretch in truthR
Be the child of her bosomT
-
We starve by the boardU
And we thirst amid wassailP
For the guest is the lordU
And the host is the vassalP
-
Through the woods let us roamV
Through the wastes wild and barrenI
We are strangers at homeV
We are exiles in ErinI
-
And Erin's a barkW
O'er the wide waters drivenI
And the tempest howls darkW
And her side planks are rivenI
-
And in billows of mightE
Swell the Saxon before herM
Unite oh uniteE
Or the billows burst o'er herM

Sir Samuel Ferguson



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