A Lay Of Real Life Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis
Rhyme Scheme: AB CB DDDE FFFE GGEE HHHE IIIJ KKKL MMMN OOOE PPPE QQQE RRRE SSST UUUV| Some are born with a wooden spoon in their mouths | A |
| and some with a golden ladle GOLDSMITH | B |
| - | |
| Some are born with tin rings in their noses and | C |
| with silver ones SILVERSMITH | B |
| - | |
| - | |
| Who ruined me ere I was born | D |
| Sold every acre grass or corn | D |
| And left the next heir all forlorn | D |
| My Grandfather | E |
| - | |
| Who said my mother was no nurse | F |
| And physicked me and made me worse | F |
| Till infancy became a curse | F |
| My Grandmother | E |
| - | |
| Who left me in my seventh year | G |
| A comfort to my mother dear | G |
| And Mr Pope the overseer | E |
| My Father | E |
| - | |
| Who let me starve to buy her gin | H |
| Till all my bones came through my skin | H |
| Then called me ugly little sin | H |
| My Mother | E |
| - | |
| Who said my mother was a Turk | I |
| And took me home and made me work | I |
| But managed half my meals to shirk | I |
| My Aunt | J |
| - | |
| Who of all earthly things would boast | K |
| He hated others' brats the most | K |
| And therefore made me feel my post | K |
| My Uncle | L |
| - | |
| Who got in scrapes an endless score | M |
| And always laid them at my door | M |
| Till many a bitter bang I bore | M |
| My Cousin | N |
| - | |
| Who took me home when mother died | O |
| Again with father to reside | O |
| Black shoes clean knives run far and wide | O |
| My Stepmother | E |
| - | |
| Who marred my stealthy urchin joys | P |
| And when I played cried What a noise | P |
| Girls always hector over boys | P |
| My Sister | E |
| - | |
| Who used to share in what was mine | Q |
| Or took it all did he incline | Q |
| 'Cause I was eight and he was nine | Q |
| My Brother | E |
| - | |
| Who stroked my head and said Good lad | R |
| And gave me sixpence all he had | R |
| But at the stall the coin was bad | R |
| My Godfather | E |
| - | |
| Who gratis shared my social glass | S |
| But when misfortune came to pass | S |
| Referr'd me to the pump Alas | S |
| My Friend | T |
| - | |
| Through all this weary world in brief | U |
| Who ever sympathized with grief | U |
| Or shared my joy my sole relief | U |
| Myself | V |
Thomas Hood
(1)
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About A Lay Of Real Life
A Lay Of Real Life is a poem by Thomas Hood. This page includes the poem text, poet information, related topics, comments, and similar poems.
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