The Lost Heir Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis
Rhyme Scheme: ABC DDDEFFFEGGGHIIIHJJJK J LGMGGNFNGOGOPQRQSTUT VWGWTGTGFTGTWAGAXGAG YZGZA2WB2YTAVAC2WAWD 2TE2TAAGADFF2FDAGAZW GWG2FFFTTH2ATFI2TI2A VTVGGTGJ2K2GK2TAI2AT FTFTI2GI2GL2J2L2FTTT I2GGGGTM2TFZTZJ2YAY'Oh where and oh where | A |
Is my bonny laddie gone ' | B |
Old Song | C |
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One day as I was going by | D |
That part of Holborn christened High | D |
I heard a loud and sodden cry | D |
That chill'd my very blood | E |
And lo from out a dirty alley | F |
Where pigs and Irish wont to rally | F |
I saw a crazy woman sally | F |
Bedaub'd with grease and mud | E |
She turn'd her East she turn'd her West | G |
Staring like Pythoness possest | G |
With streaming hair and heaving breast | G |
As one stark mad with grief | H |
This way and that she wildly ran | I |
Jostling with woman and with man | I |
Her right hand held a frying pan | I |
The left a lump of beef | H |
At last her frenzy seemed to reach | J |
A point just capable of speech | J |
And with a tone almost a screech | J |
As wild as ocean bird's | K |
Or female Banter mov'd to preach | J |
She gave her 'sorrow words ' | - |
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'O Lord O dear my heart will break I shall | L |
go stick stark staring wild | G |
Has ever a one seen anything about the streets | M |
like a crying lost looking child | G |
Lawk help me I don't know where to look or to | G |
run if I only knew which way | N |
A Child as is lost about London Streets and especially | F |
Seven Dials is a needle in a bottle of hay | N |
I am all in a quiver get out of my sight do you | G |
wretch you little Kitty M'Nab | O |
You promised to have half an eye to him you | G |
know you did you dirty deceitful young drab | O |
The last time as ever I see him poor thing | P |
was with my own blessed Motherly eyes | Q |
Sitting as good as gold in the gutter | R |
a playing at making little dirt pies | Q |
I wonder he left the court where he was better off | S |
than all the other young boys | T |
With two bricks an old shoe nine oyster shells | U |
and a dead kitten by way of toys | T |
When his father comes home and he always comes home | V |
as sure as ever the clock strikes one | W |
He'll be rampant he will at his child being lost | G |
and the beef and the inguns not done | W |
La bless you good folks mind your own consarns | T |
and don't be making a mob in the street | G |
O Sergeant M'Farlane you have not come across | T |
my poor little boy have you in your beat | G |
Do good people move on don't stand staring at me | F |
like a parcel of stupid stuck pigs | T |
Saints forbid but he's p'r'aps been inviggled | G |
away up a court for the sake of his clothes | T |
He'd a very good jacket for certain | W |
for I bought it myself for a shilling one day in Rag Fair | A |
And his trowsers considering not very much patch'd | G |
and red plush they was once his Father' | A |
His shirt it's very lucky I'd got washing in the tub | X |
or that might have gone with the rest | G |
But he'd got on a very good pinafore | A |
with only two slits and a burn on the breast | G |
He'd a goodish sort of hat If the crown was sew'd in | Y |
and not quite so much jagg'd at the brim | Z |
With one shoe on and the other shoe is a boot | G |
and not a fit and you'll know by that if it's him | Z |
Except being so well dress'd my mind would misgive | A2 |
some old beggar woman in want of an orphan | W |
Had borrow'd the child to go a begging with | B2 |
but I'd rather see him laid out in his coffin | Y |
Do good people move on such a rabble of boys | T |
I'll break every bone of 'em I come near | A |
Go home you're spilling the porter go home | V |
Tommy Jones go along home with your beer | A |
This day is the sorrowfullest day of my life | C2 |
ever since my name was Betty Morgan | W |
Them vile Savoyards they lost him once before | A |
all along of following a Monkey and an Organ | W |
O my Billy my head will turn right round if | D2 |
he's got kiddynapp'd with them Italians | T |
They'll make him a plaster parish image boy | E2 |
they will the outlandish tatterdemallions | T |
Billy where are you Billy I'm as hoarse as a crow | A |
with screaming for ye you young sorrow | A |
And shan't have half a voice no more I shan't | G |
for crying fresh herrings to morrow | A |
O Billy you're bursting my heart in two and my | D |
life won't be of no more vally | F |
If I'm to see other folk's darlins and none of | F2 |
mine playing like angels in our alley | F |
And what shall I do but cry out my eyes when I | D |
looks at the old three legged chair | A |
As Billy used to make coaches and horses of and | G |
there ain't no Billy there | A |
I would run all the wide world over to find him | Z |
if I only know'd where to run | W |
Little Murphy now I remember was once lost | G |
for a month through stealing a penny bun | W |
The Lord forbid of any child of mine | G2 |
I think it would kill me raily | F |
To find my Bill holdin up his little | F |
innocent hand at the Old Bailey | F |
For though I say it as oughtn't yet I will say | T |
you may search for miles and mileses | T |
And not find one better brought up | H2 |
and more pretty behaved from one end to t'other | A |
of St Giles's | T |
And if I called him a beauty it's no lie but only | F |
as a Mother ought to speak | I2 |
You never set eyes on a more handsomer face | T |
only it hasn't been washed for a week | I2 |
As for hair tho' it's red it's the most nicest hair | A |
when I've time to just show it the comb | V |
I'll owe 'em five pounds and a blessing besides | T |
as will only bring him safe and sound home | V |
He's blue eyes and not to be call'd a squint | G |
though a little cast he's certainly got | G |
And his nose is still a good un tho' the bridge is | T |
broke by his falling on a pewter pint pot | G |
He's got the most elegant wide mouth in the | J2 |
world and very large teeth for his age | K2 |
And quite as fit as Mrs Murdockson's child to | G |
play Cupid on the Drury Lane Stage | K2 |
And then he has got such dear winning ways | T |
but O I never never shall see him no more | A |
O dear to think of losing him just after nussing | I2 |
him back from death's door | A |
Only the very last month when the windfalls | T |
hang 'em was at twenty a penny | F |
And the threepence he'd got by grottoing was | T |
spent in plums and sixty for a child is too many | F |
And the Cholera man came and whitewash'd us | T |
all and drat him made a seize of our hog | I2 |
It's no use to send the Crier to cry him about | G |
he's such a blunderin drunken old dog | I2 |
The last time he was fetched to find a lost child | G |
he was guzzling with his bell at the Crown | L2 |
And went and cried a boy instead of a girl for a | J2 |
distracted Mother and Father about Town | L2 |
Billy where are you Billy I say come Billy | F |
come home to your best of Mothers | T |
I'm scared when I think of them Cabroleys they | T |
drive so they'd run over their own Sisters and Brothers | T |
Or may be he's stole by some chimbly sweeping | I2 |
wretch to stick fast in narrow flues and what not | G |
And be poked up behind with a picked pointed | G |
pole when the soot has ketch'd and the chimbly's red hot | G |
Oh I'd give the whole wide world if the world | G |
was mine to clap my two longin eyes on his face | T |
For he's my darlin of darlins and if he don't soon | M2 |
come back you'll see me drop stone dead on the place | T |
I only wish I'd got him safe in these two Motherly | F |
arms and wouldn't I hug him and kiss him | Z |
Lauk I never knew what a precious he was | T |
but a child don't not feel like a child till you miss him | Z |
Why there he is Punch and Judy hunting the | J2 |
young wretch it's that Billy as sartin as sin | Y |
But let me get him home with a good grip of his hair | A |
and I'm blest if he shall have a whole bone in his skin | Y |
Thomas Hood
(1)
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