The Irish Slave Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis
Rhyme Scheme: A BCBC DEDE FGFG HIHI JEJE KLKL MNMO PQRQ STUT VWVW XYXY ZLZL A2B2A2B2 C2D2C2E2 F2G2F2G2 E| A | |
| - | |
| - | |
| I heard as I lay a wailing sound | B |
| He is dead he is dead the rumor flew | C |
| And I raised my chain and turned me round | B |
| And askt thro' the dungeon window Who | C |
| - | |
| I saw my livid tormentors pass | D |
| Their grief 'twas bliss to hear and see | E |
| For never came joy to them alas | D |
| That didn't bring deadly bane to me | E |
| - | |
| Eager I lookt thro' the mist of night | F |
| And askt What foe of my race hath died | G |
| Is it he that Doubter of law and right | F |
| Whom nothing but wrong could e'er decide | G |
| - | |
| Who long as he sees but wealth to win | H |
| Hath never yet felt a qualm or doubt | I |
| What suitors for justice he'd keep in | H |
| Or what suitors for freedom he'd shut out | I |
| - | |
| Who a clog for ever on Truth's advance | J |
| Hangs round her like the Old Man of the Sea | E |
| Round Sinbad's neck nor leaves a chance | J |
| Of shaking him off is't he is't he | E |
| - | |
| Ghastly my grim tormentors smiled | K |
| And thrusting me back to my den of woe | L |
| With a laughter even more fierce and wild | K |
| Than their funeral howling answered No | L |
| - | |
| But the cry still pierced my prison gate | M |
| And again I askt What scourge is gone | N |
| Is it he that Chief so coldly great | M |
| Whom Fame unwillingly shines upon | O |
| - | |
| Whose name is one of the ill omened words | P |
| They link with hate on his native plains | Q |
| And why they lent him hearts and swords | R |
| And he in return gave scoffs and chains | Q |
| - | |
| Is it he is it he I loud inquired | S |
| When hark there sounded a Royal knell | T |
| And I knew what spirit had just expired | U |
| And slave as I was my triumph fell | T |
| - | |
| He had pledged a hate unto me and mine | V |
| He had left to the future nor hope nor choice | W |
| But sealed that hate with a Name Divine | V |
| And he now was dead and I couldn't rejoice | W |
| - | |
| He had fanned afresh the burning brands | X |
| Of a bigotry waxing cold and dim | Y |
| He had armed anew my torturers' hands | X |
| And them did I curse but sighed for him | Y |
| - | |
| For his was the error of head not heart | Z |
| And oh how beyond the ambushed foe | L |
| Who to enmity adds the traitor's part | Z |
| And carries a smile with a curse below | L |
| - | |
| If ever a heart made bright amends | A2 |
| For the fatal fault of an erring head | B2 |
| Go learn his fame from the lips of friends | A2 |
| In the orphan's tear be his glory read | B2 |
| - | |
| A Prince without pride a man without guile | C2 |
| To the last unchanging warm sincere | D2 |
| For Worth he had ever a hand and smile | C2 |
| And for Misery ever his purse and tear | E2 |
| - | |
| Touched to the heart by that solemn toll | F2 |
| I calmly sunk in my chains again | G2 |
| While still as I said Heaven rest his soul | F2 |
| My mates of the dungeon sighed Amen | G2 |
| - | |
| January | E |
Thomas Moore
(1)
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About The Irish Slave
The Irish Slave is a poem by Thomas Moore. This page includes the poem text, poet information, related topics, comments, and similar poems.
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