The Ballad Of Moll Magee Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis
Rhyme Scheme: ABCB ADED FGHG BIDI BABA JKCK ABLB MNON LAAA APQP RNON SKAK TAUA AAVA| Come round me little childer | A |
| There don't fling stones at me | B |
| Because I mutter as I go | C |
| But pity Moll Magee | B |
| - | |
| My man was a poor fisher | A |
| With shore lines in the say | D |
| My work was saltin' herrings | E |
| The whole of the long day | D |
| - | |
| And sometimes from the Saltin' shed | F |
| I scarce could drag my feet | G |
| Under the blessed moonlight | H |
| Along thc pebbly street | G |
| - | |
| I'd always been but weakly | B |
| And my baby was just born | I |
| A neighbour minded her by day | D |
| I minded her till morn | I |
| - | |
| I lay upon my baby | B |
| Ye little childer dear | A |
| I looked on my cold baby | B |
| When the morn grew frosty and clear | A |
| - | |
| A weary woman sleeps so hard | J |
| My man grew red and pale | K |
| And gave me money and bade me go | C |
| To my own place Kinsale | K |
| - | |
| He drove me out and shut the door | A |
| And gave his curse to me | B |
| I went away in silence | L |
| No neighbour could I see | B |
| - | |
| The windows and the doors were shut | M |
| One star shone faint and green | N |
| The little straws were turnin round | O |
| Across the bare boreen | N |
| - | |
| I went away in silence | L |
| Beyond old Martin's byre | A |
| I saw a kindly neighbour | A |
| Blowin' her mornin' fire | A |
| - | |
| She drew from me my story | A |
| My money's all used up | P |
| And still with pityin' scornin' eye | Q |
| She gives me bite and sup | P |
| - | |
| She says my man will surely come | R |
| And fetch me home agin | N |
| But always as I'm movin' round | O |
| Without doors or within | N |
| - | |
| Pilin' the wood or pilin' the turf | S |
| Or goin' to the well | K |
| I'm thinkin' of my baby | A |
| And keenin' to mysel' | K |
| - | |
| And Sometimes I am sure she knows | T |
| When openin' wide His door | A |
| God lights the stats His candles | U |
| And looks upon the poor | A |
| - | |
| So now ye little childer | A |
| Ye won't fling stones at me | A |
| But gather with your shinin' looks | V |
| And pity Moll Magee | A |
William Butler Yeats
(1)
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