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 car | A |
| We won't do so much advertising if we stay in the seat where we are | A |
| That sweet little dude saw the bracelets that you on my wrists have bestowed | B |
| And tells the new passengers promptly you're taking me over the road | B |
| I've had a well patronized trial the neighbors all know of my fall | C |
| But when I get out among strangers I'm sensitive like after all | C |
| - | |
| For I was a lad of good prospects some three or four summers ago | D |
| There wasn't any boy in our township who made a more promising show | D |
| I learned all of Solomon's proverbs and took in their goodness and worth | E |
| Till I felt like a virtue hooped barrel chock full of the salt of the earth | E |
| And this precious picnic of sorrow would likely enough have been saved | F |
| If I had had less of a heart sir or home had contained what it craved | F |
| - | |
| For the time when a boy is in danger of walking a little bit wild | G |
| Is when he's too young to be married too old to be known as a child | G |
| A bird in the lonely grass thickets just out of the parent tree thrown | H |
| Too large to be kept in the old nest too small to have one of his own | H |
| When desolate 'mid his companions his soul is a stake to be won | I |
| 'Tis then that the Devil stands ready to get a good chance to catch on | J |
| - | |
| Oh yes I'd a good enough home sir so far as the house was concerned | K |
| My parents were first class providers I ate full as much as I earned | K |
| My clothes were all built of good timber and fit every day to be seen | L |
| There wasn't any lock on the pantry my bedroom was tidy and clean | L |
| And taking the home up and down sir I'd more than an average part | M |
| With one quite important exception there wasn't any room for my heart | M |
| - | |
| The house couldn't have been any colder with snow drifts in every room | N |
| The house needn't have been any darker to make a respectable tomb | N |
| I used to stop short on the door step and brace up a minute or more | O |
| And bid a good bye to the sunshine before I would open the door | O |
| I used to feed daily on icebergs take in all the freeze I could hold | P |
| Then go out and warm in the sunshine because my poor heart was so cold | P |
| - | |
| And hadn't I a father and mother Oh yes just as good as they make | Q |
| Too good I have often suspected though maybe that last's a mistake | Q |
| But they'd travelled so long and so steady the way to Perfection's abode | B |
| They hadn't any feeling for fellows who could not as yet find the road | B |
| And so till some far advanced mile post on goodness's pike I could win | R |
| They thought of me not as their own child but as one of the children of sin | R |
| - | |
| And hadn't I brothers and sisters Oh yes till they somewhat had grown | H |
| Then shivering they went off and left me to stand the cold weather alone | H |
| For I had the luck to be youngest the last on the family page | S |
| The one to prop up the old roof tree the staff of my parents' old age | S |
| Who well understood all the uses to which a mere staff is applied | T |
| They used me whenever convenient then carelessly threw me aside | T |
| - | |
| And hadn't I any associates Oh yes I had friends more or less | U |
| But seldom I asked them to visit our house with the slightest success | U |
| Whenever the project was mentioned they'd somehow look blue like and chill | V |
| And mention another engagement they felt it their duty to fill | V |
| For now I am only a convict there's no harm in telling the truth | W |
| My home was a fearful wet blanket to blood that was seasoned with youth | W |
| - | |
| Not one bless d thing that was cheerful no festivals frolics or games | X |
| No novels of any description 'twas wicked to mention their names | X |
| My story books suddenly vanished my checker boards never would keep | Y |
| No newspaper came through our doorway unless it was first put to sleep | Y |
| And as for love well that old song sir is very melodious and fine | Z |
| With No place like home in the chorus I hope there ain't many like mine | Z |
| - | |
| And so soon my body got hating a place which my soul couldn't abide | T |
| And Pleasure was all the time smiling and motioning me to her side | T |
| And when I start out on a journey I'm likely to go it by leaps | A2 |
| For good or for bad I'm no half way I'm one or the other for keeps | A2 |
| My wild oats flew thicker and faster I reaped the same crop that I sowed | B2 |
| And now I am going to market I'm taking it over the road | B |
| - | |
| Yes it grieved my good father and mother to see me so sadly astray | C2 |
| They deeply regretted my downfall in a strictly respectable way | C2 |
| They gave me some more admonition and sent me off full of advice | D2 |
| And wondered to see such a villain from parents so good and precise | D2 |
| Indeed I have often conjectured when full of neglect and its smarts | E2 |
| I must have been left on the door step of their uncongenial hearts | E2 |
| - | |
| My home in the prison is waiting it opens up clear to my sight | F2 |
| Hard work and no pay day a coming a close cell to sleep in at night | F2 |
| And there I must lie sad and lonesome with more tribulation than rest | G2 |
| And wake in the morning with sorrow sharp sticking like steel in my breast | G2 |
| But maybe the strain and the trouble won't quite so much o'er me prevail | H2 |
| As 'twould be to some one who wasn't brought up in a kind of a jail | H2 |
| - | |
| You've got a good home Mr Sheriff with everything cosy and nice | D2 |
| And 'tisn't for a wrist shackled convict to offer you words of advice | D2 |
| But this I must say of all places your children may visit or call | C |
| Make HOME the most pleasant and happy the sweetest and best of them all | C |
| For the Devil won't offer a dollar to have his world chances improved | I2 |
| When Home is turned into a side show with half the attractions removed | I2 |
| - | |
| Don't think I'm too bitter good sheriff I like you you've been very good | J2 |
| I'm ever and ever so grateful would pay it all back if I could | J2 |
| I didn't mean to slander my parents I've nothing against their good name | K2 |
| And as for my unrighteous actions it's mostly myself that's to blame | K2 |
| Still if I'd had a home But the prison is only one station ahead | L2 |
| I'm done Mr Sheriff forget me but don't forget what I have said | L2 |
| - | |
| - | |
| - | |
| SEPTEMBER | M2 |
| - | |
| Vice vice vice vice and 'tisn't all clear and free | N2 |
| Where any one can take a look and see | N2 |
| And then decide immediate on the spot | O2 |
| Whether he'll buy his soul farm there or not | O2 |
| It's scattered round about so 'mongst the good | J2 |
| Folks can't entirely shun it when they would | J2 |
| Much better to escape it we'd be able | P2 |
| If 'twas obliged to carry 'round a label | P2 |
| It always does some time before it ages | Q2 |
| But not enough so in its early stages | Q2 |
| - | |
| My mind was led around about this way | C2 |
| By a well dressed young man I met to day | C2 |
| Who strove to twist some money out of me | N2 |
| But had instead a first class lecture free | N2 |
| - | |
| My cousin Abdiel Stebbins large and good | J2 |
| Inclined to do even better than he should | J2 |
| And with a heart that gets him into scrapes | R2 |
| Of a most strange variety of shapes | R2 |
| But who before they've run a fatal course | S2 |
| Always gets out of them by sheer main force | S2 |
| Wrote me two letters several years ago | D |
| Which I have kept with no intent to show | D |
| But simply to read over now and then | T2 |
| As part of my text book entitled Men | T2 |
| - | |
| I think I'll get my cousin's wail by letter | M2 |
| And paste it here where I can find it better | M2 |
William Mckendree Carleton
(1)
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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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