The Sprig Of Moss Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis
Rhyme Scheme: AA BBCC DDEE FFCC GHII JJKL MMCC DNOO PPQQ RSTT UUVV WWGX GHYY CCZA2 HGFO OOB2B2 OOOO OOC2C2A | |
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There lived in Munich a poor weakly youth | B |
But for the exact date I cannot vouch for the truth | B |
And of seven of a family he was the elder | C |
Who was named by his parents Alois Senefelder | C |
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But poor fellow at home his father was lying dead | D |
And his little brothers and sisters were depending upon him for bread | D |
And one evening he was dismissed from his employment | E |
Which put an end to all his peace and enjoyment | E |
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The poor lad was almost mad and the next day | F |
His parent's remains to the cemetery were taken away | F |
And when his father was buried distracted like he grew | C |
And he strolled through the streets crying What shall I do | C |
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And all night he wandered on sad and alone | G |
Until he began to think of returning home | H |
But to his surprise on raising his head to look around | I |
He was in a part of the country which to him was unknown ground | I |
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And when night came on the poor lad stood aghast | J |
For all was hushed save the murmuring of a river which flowed past | J |
And the loneliness around seemed to fill his heart with awe | K |
And with fatigue he sat down on the first stone he saw | L |
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And there resting his elbows and head on his knees | M |
He sat gazing at the running water which did him please | M |
And by the light of the stars which shone on the water blue | C |
He cried I will drown myself and bid this harsh world adieu | C |
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Besides I'm good for nothing to himself he said | D |
And will only become a burden to my mother I'm afraid | N |
And there at the bottom of that water said he | O |
From all my misfortunes death will set me free | O |
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But happily for Alois more pious thoughts rushed into his mind | P |
And courage enough to drown himself he couldn't find | P |
So he resolved to go home again whatever did betide | Q |
And he asked forgiveness of his Creator by the river side | Q |
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And as he knelt a few incoherent words escaped him | R |
And the thought of drowning himself he considered a great sin | S |
And the more he thought of it he felt his flesh creep | T |
But in a few minutes he fell fast asleep | T |
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And he slept soundly for the stillness wasn't broke | U |
And the day was beginning to dawn before he awoke | U |
Then suddenly he started up as if in a fright | V |
And he saw very near him a little stone smooth and white | V |
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Upon which was traced the delicate design of a Sprig of Moss | W |
But to understand such a design he was at a loss | W |
Then he recollected the Sprig of Moss lying on the stone | G |
And with his tears he'd moistened it but it was gone | X |
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But its imprint was delicately imprinted on the stone | G |
Then taking the stone under his arm he resolved to go home | H |
Saying God has reserved me for some other thing | Y |
And with joy he couldn't tell how he began to sing | Y |
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And on drawing near the city he met his little brother | C |
Who told him his uncle had visited his mother | C |
And on beholding their misery had left them money to buy food | Z |
Then Alois cried Thank God the news is good | A2 |
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Then 'twas on the first day after Alois came home | H |
He began the printing of the Sprig of Moss on the stone | G |
And by taking the impressions of watch cases he discovered one day | F |
What is now called the art of Lithography | O |
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So Alois plodded on making known his great discovery | O |
Until he obtained the notice of the Royal Academy | O |
Besides he obtained a gold Medal and what was more dear to his heart | B2 |
He lived to see the wide extension of his art | B2 |
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And when life's prospects may at times appear dreary to ye | O |
Remember Alois Senefelder the discoverer of Lithography | O |
How God saved him from drowning himself in adversity | O |
And I hope ye all will learn what the Sprig of Moss teaches ye | O |
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And God that made a way through the Red Sea | O |
If ye only put your trust in Him He will protect ye | O |
And light up your path and strew it with flowers | C2 |
And be your own Comforter in all your lonely hours | C2 |
William Topaz Mcgonagall
(1)
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