The Battle Of Limerick Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis
Rhyme Scheme: AABAAB CCBDDB AABDDB EEBFFF DDFEEF GGFHHF HHFDDF DDFDDF IHFJCF FFFDDF CCFHHF HHFDDF DDFDDF KKFHHF HHFD F H HHF EEFDDF DDFHLFYe Genii of the nation | A |
Who look with veneration | A |
And Ireland's desolation onsaysingly deplore | B |
Ye sons of General Jackson | A |
Who thrample on the Saxon | A |
Attend to the thransaction upon Shannon shore | B |
- | |
When William Duke of Schumbug | C |
A tyrant and a humbug | C |
With cannon and with thunder on our city bore | B |
Our fortitude and valiance | D |
Insthructed his battalions | D |
To respict the galliant Irish upon Shannon shore | B |
- | |
Since that capitulation | A |
No city in this nation | A |
So grand a reputation could boast before | B |
As Limerick prodigious | D |
That stands with quays and bridges | D |
And the ships up to the windies of the Shannon shore | B |
- | |
A chief of ancient line | E |
'Tis William Smith O'Brine | E |
Reprisints this darling Limerick this ten years or more | B |
O the Saxons can't endure | F |
To see him on the flure | F |
And thrimble at the Cicero from Shannon shore | F |
- | |
This valliant son of Mars | D |
Had been to visit Par's | D |
That land of Revolution that grows the tricolor | F |
And to welcome his returrn | E |
From pilgrimages furren | E |
We invited him to tay on the Shannon shore | F |
- | |
Then we summoned to our board | G |
Young Meagher of the sword | G |
'Tis he will sheathe that battle axe in Saxon gore | F |
And Mitchil of Belfast | H |
We bade to our repast | H |
To dthrink a dish of coffee on the Shannon shore | F |
- | |
Convaniently to hould | H |
These patriots so bould | H |
We tuck the opportunity of Tim Doolan's store | F |
And with ornamints and banners | D |
As becomes gintale good manners | D |
We made the loveliest tay room upon Shannon shore | F |
- | |
'Twould binifit your sowls | D |
To see the butthered rowls | D |
The sugar tongs and sangwidges and craim galyore | F |
And the muffins and the crumpets | D |
And the band of hearts and thrumpets | D |
To celebrate the sworry upon Shannon shore | F |
- | |
Sure the Imperor of Bohay | I |
Would be proud to dthrink the tay | H |
That Misthress Biddy Rooney for O'Brine did pour | F |
And since the days of Strongbow | J |
There never was such Congo | C |
Mitchil dthrank six quarts of it by Shannon shore | F |
- | |
But Clarndon and Corry | F |
Connellan beheld this sworry | F |
With rage and imulation in their black hearts' core | F |
And they hired a gang of ruffins | D |
To interrupt the muffins | D |
And the fragrance of the Congo on the Shannon shore | F |
- | |
When full of tay and cake | C |
O'Brine began to spake | C |
But juice a one could hear him for a sudden roar | F |
Of a ragamuffin rout | H |
Began to yell and shout | H |
And frighten the propriety of Shannon shore | F |
- | |
As Smith O'Brine harangued | H |
They batthered and they banged | H |
Tim Doolan's doors and windies down they tore | F |
They smashed the lovely windies | D |
Hung with muslin from the Indies | D |
Purshuing of their shindies upon Shannon shore | F |
- | |
With throwing of brickbats | D |
Drowned puppies and dead rats | D |
These ruffin democrats themselves did lower | F |
Tin kettles rotten eggs | D |
Cabbage stalks and wooden legs | D |
They flung among the patriots of Shannon shore | F |
- | |
O the girls began to scrame | K |
And upset the milk and crame | K |
And the honorable gintlemin they cursed and swore | F |
And Mitchil of Belfast | H |
'Twas he that looked aghast | H |
When they roasted him in effigy by Shannon shore | F |
- | |
O the lovely tay was spilt | H |
On that day of Ireland's guilt | H |
Says Jack Mitchil 'I am kilt Boys where's the back door | F |
'Tis a national disgrace | D |
Let me go and veil me face ' | - |
And he boulted with quick pace from the Shannon shore | F |
- | |
'Cut down the bloody horde ' | - |
Says Meagher of the sword | H |
'This conduct would disgrace any blackamore ' | - |
But the best use Tommy made | H |
Of his famous battle blade | H |
Was to cut his own stick from the Shannon shore | F |
- | |
Immortal Smith O'Brine | E |
Was raging like a line | E |
'Twould have done your sowl good to have heard him roar | F |
In his glory he arose | D |
And he rushed upon his foes | D |
But they hit him on the nose by the Shannon shore | F |
- | |
Then the Futt and the Dthragoons | D |
In squadthrons and platoons | D |
With their music playing chunes down upon us bore | F |
And they bate the rattatoo | H |
But the Peelers came in view | L |
And ended the shaloo on the Shannon shore | F |
William Makepeace Thackeray
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