The Happy Townland Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis
Rhyme Scheme: ABCCDEAEFCGC C HICIC JKLMNOHOPJQJ C HOCOC CCRCASCSOTUT C HOCOCThere's many a strong farmer | A |
Whose heart would break in two | B |
If he could see the townland | C |
That we are riding to | C |
Boughs have their fruit and blossom | D |
At all times of the year | E |
Rivers are running over | A |
With red beer and brown beer | E |
An old man plays the bagpipes | F |
In a golden and silver wood | C |
Queens their eyes blue like the ice | G |
Are dancing in a crowd | C |
- | |
The little fox he murmured | C |
'O what of the world's bane ' | - |
The sun was laughing sweetly | H |
The moon plucked at my rein | I |
But the little red fox murmured | C |
'O do not pluck at his rein | I |
He is riding to the townland | C |
That is the world's bane ' | - |
- | |
When their hearts are so high | J |
That they would come to blows | K |
They unhook rheir heavy swords | L |
From golden and silver boughs | M |
But all that are killed in battle | N |
Awaken to life again | O |
It is lucky that their story | H |
Is not known among men | O |
For O the strong farmers | P |
That would let the spade lie | J |
Their hearts would be like a cup | Q |
That somebody had drunk dry | J |
- | |
The little fox he murmured | C |
'O what of the world's bane ' | - |
The sun was laughing sweetly | H |
The moon plucked at my rcin | O |
But the little red fox murmured | C |
'O do not pluck at his rein | O |
He is riding to the townland | C |
That is the world's bane ' | - |
- | |
Michael will unhook his trumpet | C |
From a bough overhead | C |
And blow a little noise | R |
When the supper has been spread | C |
Gabriel will come from the water | A |
With a fish tail and talk | S |
Of wonders that have happened | C |
On wet roads where men walk | S |
And lift up an old horn | O |
Of hammered silver and drink | T |
Till he has fallen asleep | U |
Upon the starry brink | T |
- | |
The little fox he murmured | C |
'O what of the world's bane ' | - |
The sun was laughing sweetly | H |
The moon plucked at my rein | O |
But the little red fox murmured | C |
'O do not pluck at his rein | O |
He is riding to the townland | C |
That is the world's bane ' | - |
William Butler Yeats
(2)
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