The Ballad Of William Sycamore [1790-1871] Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis
Rhyme Scheme: ABAB CBCB DEDE FGFG HGHG IGIG JKJK LMMM NMNM MOMO PBPB QGQG RBRB S ST UVWV XMAM YOYO MMMM GMGM| My father he was a mountaineer | A |
| His fist was a knotty hammer | B |
| He was quick on his feet as a running deer | A |
| And he spoke with a Yankee stammer | B |
| - | |
| My mother she was merry and brave | C |
| And so she came to her labor | B |
| With a tall green fir for her doctor grave | C |
| And a stream for her comforting neighbor | B |
| - | |
| And some are wrapped in the linen fine | D |
| And some like a godling's scion | E |
| But I was cradled on twigs of pine | D |
| And the skin of a mountain lion | E |
| - | |
| And some remember a white starched lap | F |
| And a ewer with silver handles | G |
| But I remember a coonskin cap | F |
| And the smell of bayberry candles | G |
| - | |
| The cabin logs with the bark still rough | H |
| And my mother who laughed at trifles | G |
| And the tall lank visitors brown as snuff | H |
| With their long straight squirrel rifles | G |
| - | |
| I can hear them dance like a foggy song | I |
| Through the deepest one of my slumbers | G |
| The fiddle squeaking the boots along | I |
| And my father calling the numbers | G |
| - | |
| The quick feet shaking the puncheon floor | J |
| And the fiddle squealing and squealing | K |
| Till the dried herbs rattled above the door | J |
| And the dust went up to the ceiling | K |
| - | |
| There are children lucky from dawn till dusk | L |
| But never a child so lucky | M |
| For I cut my teeth on 'Money Musk' | M |
| In the Bloody Ground of Kentucky | M |
| - | |
| When I grew tall as the Indian corn | N |
| My father had little to lend me | M |
| But he gave me his great old powder horn | N |
| And his woodsman's skill to befriend me | M |
| - | |
| With a leather shirt to cover my back | M |
| And a redskin nose to unravel | O |
| Each forest sign I carried my pack | M |
| As far as a scout could travel | O |
| - | |
| Till I lost my boyhood and found my wife | P |
| A girl like a Salem clipper | B |
| A woman straight as a hunting knife | P |
| With as eyes as bright as the Dipper | B |
| - | |
| We cleared our camp where the buffalo feed | Q |
| Unheard of streams were our flagons | G |
| And I sowed my sons like the apple seed | Q |
| On the trail of the Western wagons | G |
| - | |
| They were right tight boys never sulky or slow | R |
| A fruitful a goodly muster | B |
| The eldest died at the Alamo | R |
| The youngest fell with Custer | B |
| - | |
| The letter that told it burned my hand | S |
| Yet we smiled and said 'So be it ' | - |
| But I could not live when they fenced the land | S |
| For it broke my heart to see it | T |
| - | |
| I saddled a red unbroken colt | U |
| And rode him into the day there | V |
| And he threw me down like a thunderbolt | W |
| And rolled on me as I lay there | V |
| - | |
| The hunter's whistle hummed in my ear | X |
| As the city men tried to move me | M |
| And I died in my boots like a pioneer | A |
| With the whole wide sky above me | M |
| - | |
| Now I lie in the heart of the fat black soil | Y |
| Like the seed of a prairie thistle | O |
| It has washed my bones with honey and oil | Y |
| And picked them clean as a whistle | O |
| - | |
| And my youth returns like the rains of Spring | M |
| And my sons like the wild geese flying | M |
| And I lie and hear the meadow lark sing | M |
| And have much content in my dying | M |
| - | |
| Go play with the towns you have built of blocks | G |
| The towns where you would have bound me | M |
| I sleep in my earth like a tired fox | G |
| And my buffalo have found me | M |
Stephen Vincent Benet
(1)
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About The Ballad Of William Sycamore [1790-1871]
The Ballad Of William Sycamore [1790-1871] is a poem by Stephen Vincent Benet. This page includes the poem text, poet information, related topics, comments, and similar poems.
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