Over The Hill From The Poor-house Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis

Rhyme Scheme: AABBCCAAD EEFFGGD HHIIJJKK LLMMNNOOPPQQRJSSTTUU VVWWXXYYPPQQZZ LLAAA2A2PPCCB2B2C2C2 D2D2D AAE2E2ZZF2F2OOJJD G2G2AAMMLLH2H2I2I2J2 J2 K2K2L2L2MMM2M2OOLLD

I who was always counted they sayA
Rather a bad stick any wayA
Splintered all over with dodges and tricksB
Known as the worst of the Deacon's sixB
I the truant saucy and boldC
The one black sheep in my father's foldC
Once on a time as the stories sayA
Went over the hill on a winter's dayA
Over the hill to the poor houseD
-
Tom could save what twenty could earnE
But givin' was somethin' he ne'er would learnE
Isaac could half o' the Scriptur's speakF
Committed a hundred verses a weekF
Never forgot an' never slippedG
But Honor thy father and mother he skippedG
So over the hill to the poor houseD
-
As for Susan her heart was kindH
An' good what there was of it mindH
Nothin' too big an' nothin' too niceI
Nothin' she wouldn't sacrificeI
For one she loved an' that 'ere oneJ
Was herself when all was said an' doneJ
An' Charley an' 'Becca meant well no doubtK
But any one could pull 'em aboutK
-
An' all o' our folks ranked well you seeL
Save one poor fellow and that was meL
An' when one dark an' rainy nightM
A neighbor's horse went out o' sightM
They hitched on me as the guilty chapN
That carried one end o' the halter strapN
An' I think myself that view of the caseO
Wasn't altogether out o' placeO
My mother denied it as mothers doP
But I am inclined to believe 'twas trueP
Though for me one thing might be saidQ
That I as well as the horse was ledQ
And the worst of whisky spurred me onR
Or else the deed would have never been doneJ
But the keenest grief I ever feltS
Was when my mother beside me kneltS
An' cried an' prayed till I melted downT
As I wouldn't for half the horses in townT
I kissed her fondly then an' thereU
An' swore henceforth to be honest and squareU
-
I served my sentence a bitter pillV
Some fellows should take who never willV
And then I decided to go out WestW
Concludin' 'twould suit my health the bestW
Where how I prospered I never could tellX
But Fortune seemed to like we me wellX
An' somehow every vein I struckY
Was always bubblin' over with luckY
An' better than that I was steady an' trueP
An' put my good resolutions throughP
But I wrote to a trusty old neighbor an' saidQ
You tell 'em old fellow that I am deadQ
An' died a Christian 'twill please 'em moreZ
Than if I had lived the same as beforeZ
-
But when this neighbor he wrote to meL
Your mother's in the poor house says heL
I had a resurrection straightwayA
An' started for her that very dayA
And when I arrived where I was grownA2
I took good care that I shouldn't be knownA2
But I bought the old cottage through and throughP
Of some one Charley had sold it toP
And held back neither work nor goldC
To fix it up as it was of oldC
The same big fire place wide an' highB2
Flung up its cinders toward the skyB2
The old clock ticked on the corner shelfC2
I wound it an' set it agoin' myselfC2
An' if every thing wasn't just the sameD2
Neither I nor money was to blameD2
Then over the hill to the poor houseD
-
One blowin' blusterin' winter's dayA
With a team an' cutter I started awayA
My fiery nags was as black as coalE2
They some'at resembled the horse I stoleE2
I hitched an' entered the poor house doorZ
A poor old woman was scrubbin' the floorZ
She rose to her feet in great surpriseF2
And looked quite startled into my eyesF2
I saw the whole of her trouble's traceO
In the lines that marred her dear old faceO
Mother I shouted your sorrows is doneJ
You're adopted along o' your horse thief sonJ
Come over the hill from the poor houseD
-
She didn't faint she knelt by my sideG2
An' thanked the Lord till I fairly criedG2
An' maybe our ride wasn't pleasant an' gayA
An' maybe she wasn't wrapped up that dayA
An' maybe our cottage wasn't warm an' brightM
An' maybe it wasn't a pleasant sightM
To see her a gettin' the evenin's teaL
An' frequently stoppin' and kissin' meL
An' maybe we didn't live happy for yearsH2
In spite of my brothers' and sisters' sneersH2
Who often said as I have heardI2
That they wouldn't own a prison birdI2
Though they're gettin' over that I guessJ2
For all of 'em owe me more or lessJ2
-
But I've learned one thing an' it cheers a manK2
In always a doin' the best he canK2
That whether on the big book a blotL2
Gets over a fellow's name or notL2
Whenever he does a deed that's whiteM
It's credited to him fair and rightM
An' when you hear the great bugle's notesM2
An' the Lord divides his sheep an' goatsM2
However they may settle my caseO
Wherever they may fix my placeO
My good old Christian mother you'll seeL
Will be sure to stand right up for meL
With over the hill from the poor houseD

Will Carleton



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