Abbey Assaroe Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis
Rhyme Scheme: AA BBCCDDEE FFGGHHEE IIJJKKEE LLMMNNEE| A | |
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| Gray gray is Abbey Assaroe by Belashanny town | B |
| It has neither door nor window the walls are broken down | B |
| The carven stones lie scatter'd in briar and nettle bed | C |
| The only feet are those that come at burial of the dead | C |
| A little rocky rivulet runs murmuring to the tide | D |
| Singing a song of ancient days in sorrow not in pride | D |
| The boortree and the lightsome ash across the portal grow | E |
| And heaven itself is now the roof of Abbey Assaroe | E |
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| It looks beyond the harbour stream to Gulban mountain blue | F |
| It hears the voice of Erna's fall Atlantic breakers too | F |
| High ships go sailing past it the sturdy clank of oars | G |
| Brings in the salmon boat to haul a net upon the shores | G |
| And this way to his home creek when the summer day is done | H |
| Slow sculls the weary fisherman across the setting sun | H |
| While green with corn is Sheegus Hill his cottage white below | E |
| But gray at every season is Abbey Assaroe | E |
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| There stood one day a poor old man above its broken bridge | I |
| He heard no running rivulet he saw no mountain ridge | I |
| He turn'd his back on Sheegus Hill and view'd with misty sight | J |
| The Abbey walls the burial ground with crosses ghostly white | J |
| Under a weary weight of years he bow'd upon his staff | K |
| Perusing in the present time the former's epitaph | K |
| For gray and wasted like the walls a figure full of woe | E |
| This man was of the blood of them who founded Assaroe | E |
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| From Derry to Bundrowas Tower Tirconnell broad was theirs | L |
| Spearmen and plunder bards and wine and holy Abbot's prayers | L |
| With chanting always in the house which they had builded high | M |
| To God and to Saint Bernard where at last they came to die | M |
| At worst no workhouse grave for him the ruins of his race | N |
| Shall rest among the ruin'd stones of this their saintly place | N |
| The fond old man was weeping and tremulous and slow | E |
| Along the rough and crooked lane he crept from Assaroe | E |
William Allingham
(1)
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