The Boy Convict's Story Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis

Rhyme Scheme: AABBCC DDEEFF GGHHIJ KKLLMM NNOOPP QQBBRR HHSSTT UUVVWW XXYYZZ TTA2A2B2B C2C2D2D2E2E2 F2F2G2G2H2H2 D2D2CCI2I2 J2J2K2K2L2L2 M2 N2N2O2O2J2J2P2P2Q2Q2 C2C2N2N2 J2J2R2R2S2S2DDT2T2 M2M2

I'd rather sit here Mr Sheriff up near to the end of the carA
We won't do so much advertising if we stay in the seat where we areA
That sweet little dude saw the bracelets that you on my wrists have bestowedB
And tells the new passengers promptly you're taking me over the roadB
I've had a well patronized trial the neighbors all know of my fallC
But when I get out among strangers I'm sensitive like after allC
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For I was a lad of good prospects some three or four summers agoD
There wasn't any boy in our township who made a more promising showD
I learned all of Solomon's proverbs and took in their goodness and worthE
Till I felt like a virtue hooped barrel chock full of the salt of the earthE
And this precious picnic of sorrow would likely enough have been savedF
If I had had less of a heart sir or home had contained what it cravedF
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For the time when a boy is in danger of walking a little bit wildG
Is when he's too young to be married too old to be known as a childG
A bird in the lonely grass thickets just out of the parent tree thrownH
Too large to be kept in the old nest too small to have one of his ownH
When desolate 'mid his companions his soul is a stake to be wonI
'Tis then that the Devil stands ready to get a good chance to catch onJ
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Oh yes I'd a good enough home sir so far as the house was concernedK
My parents were first class providers I ate full as much as I earnedK
My clothes were all built of good timber and fit every day to be seenL
There wasn't any lock on the pantry my bedroom was tidy and cleanL
And taking the home up and down sir I'd more than an average partM
With one quite important exception there wasn't any room for my heartM
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The house couldn't have been any colder with snow drifts in every roomN
The house needn't have been any darker to make a respectable tombN
I used to stop short on the door step and brace up a minute or moreO
And bid a good bye to the sunshine before I would open the doorO
I used to feed daily on icebergs take in all the freeze I could holdP
Then go out and warm in the sunshine because my poor heart was so coldP
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And hadn't I a father and mother Oh yes just as good as they makeQ
Too good I have often suspected though maybe that last's a mistakeQ
But they'd travelled so long and so steady the way to Perfection's abodeB
They hadn't any feeling for fellows who could not as yet find the roadB
And so till some far advanced mile post on goodness's pike I could winR
They thought of me not as their own child but as one of the children of sinR
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And hadn't I brothers and sisters Oh yes till they somewhat had grownH
Then shivering they went off and left me to stand the cold weather aloneH
For I had the luck to be youngest the last on the family pageS
The one to prop up the old roof tree the staff of my parents' old ageS
Who well understood all the uses to which a mere staff is appliedT
They used me whenever convenient then carelessly threw me asideT
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And hadn't I any associates Oh yes I had friends more or lessU
But seldom I asked them to visit our house with the slightest successU
Whenever the project was mentioned they'd somehow look blue like and chillV
And mention another engagement they felt it their duty to fillV
For now I am only a convict there's no harm in telling the truthW
My home was a fearful wet blanket to blood that was seasoned with youthW
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Not one bless d thing that was cheerful no festivals frolics or gamesX
No novels of any description 'twas wicked to mention their namesX
My story books suddenly vanished my checker boards never would keepY
No newspaper came through our doorway unless it was first put to sleepY
And as for love well that old song sir is very melodious and fineZ
With No place like home in the chorus I hope there ain't many like mineZ
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And so soon my body got hating a place which my soul couldn't abideT
And Pleasure was all the time smiling and motioning me to her sideT
And when I start out on a journey I'm likely to go it by leapsA2
For good or for bad I'm no half way I'm one or the other for keepsA2
My wild oats flew thicker and faster I reaped the same crop that I sowedB2
And now I am going to market I'm taking it over the roadB
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Yes it grieved my good father and mother to see me so sadly astrayC2
They deeply regretted my downfall in a strictly respectable wayC2
They gave me some more admonition and sent me off full of adviceD2
And wondered to see such a villain from parents so good and preciseD2
Indeed I have often conjectured when full of neglect and its smartsE2
I must have been left on the door step of their uncongenial heartsE2
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My home in the prison is waiting it opens up clear to my sightF2
Hard work and no pay day a coming a close cell to sleep in at nightF2
And there I must lie sad and lonesome with more tribulation than restG2
And wake in the morning with sorrow sharp sticking like steel in my breastG2
But maybe the strain and the trouble won't quite so much o'er me prevailH2
As 'twould be to some one who wasn't brought up in a kind of a jailH2
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You've got a good home Mr Sheriff with everything cosy and niceD2
And 'tisn't for a wrist shackled convict to offer you words of adviceD2
But this I must say of all places your children may visit or callC
Make HOME the most pleasant and happy the sweetest and best of them allC
For the Devil won't offer a dollar to have his world chances improvedI2
When Home is turned into a side show with half the attractions removedI2
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Don't think I'm too bitter good sheriff I like you you've been very goodJ2
I'm ever and ever so grateful would pay it all back if I couldJ2
I didn't mean to slander my parents I've nothing against their good nameK2
And as for my unrighteous actions it's mostly myself that's to blameK2
Still if I'd had a home But the prison is only one station aheadL2
I'm done Mr Sheriff forget me but don't forget what I have saidL2
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SEPTEMBERM2
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Vice vice vice vice and 'tisn't all clear and freeN2
Where any one can take a look and seeN2
And then decide immediate on the spotO2
Whether he'll buy his soul farm there or notO2
It's scattered round about so 'mongst the goodJ2
Folks can't entirely shun it when they wouldJ2
Much better to escape it we'd be ableP2
If 'twas obliged to carry 'round a labelP2
It always does some time before it agesQ2
But not enough so in its early stagesQ2
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My mind was led around about this wayC2
By a well dressed young man I met to dayC2
Who strove to twist some money out of meN2
But had instead a first class lecture freeN2
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My cousin Abdiel Stebbins large and goodJ2
Inclined to do even better than he shouldJ2
And with a heart that gets him into scrapesR2
Of a most strange variety of shapesR2
But who before they've run a fatal courseS2
Always gets out of them by sheer main forceS2
Wrote me two letters several years agoD
Which I have kept with no intent to showD
But simply to read over now and thenT2
As part of my text book entitled MenT2
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I think I'll get my cousin's wail by letterM2
And paste it here where I can find it betterM2

William Mckendree Carleton



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The Boy Convict's Story is a poem by William Mckendree Carleton. This page includes the poem text, poet information, related topics, comments, and similar poems.



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