Mad Tom Tatterman
“Old man, grey man, good man scavenger,Bearing is it eighty years upon your crumpled back?What is it you gather in the frosty weather,Is there any treasure here to carry in your sack?”
“I’ve a million acres and a thousand head of cattle,And a foaming river where the silver salmon leap;But I’ve left fat valleys to dig in sullen alleysJust because a twisted star rode by me in my sleep.
“I’ve a brain is dancing to an old forgotten musicHeard when all the world was just a crazy flight of dreams,And don’t you know I scatter in the dirt along the gutterSeeds that little ladies nursed by Babylonian streams?
“Mad Tom Tatterman, that is how they call me.Oh, they know so much, so much, all so neatly dressed;I’ve a tale to tell you--come and listen, will you?--One as ragged as the twigs that make a magpie’s nest.
“Ragged, oh, but very wise. You and this and that man,All of you are making things that none of you would lack,And so your eyes grow dusty, and so your limbs grow rusty--But mad Tom Tatterman puts nothing in his sack.
“Nothing in my sack, sirs, but the Sea of GalileeWas walked for mad Tom Tatterman, and when I go to sleepThey’ll know that I have driven through the acres of broad heavenFlocks are whiter than the flocks that all your shepherds keep.”
Words in this poem
- sullen a.
- Lonely; solitary; desolate. Wyclif (Job iii. 14). [OE. solein, solain, lonely, sullen; through Old French fr. (assumed) LL. solanus solitary, fr. L. solus alone. See Sole, a.]
- rode n.
- Redness; complexion. [See Rud.]
- babylonian a.
- Of or pertaining to the real or to the mystical Babylon, or to the ancient kingdom of Babylonia; Chaldean.
Definitions and etymologies from Webster's Unabridged Dictionary, 1913.
About this text
Mad Tom Tatterman is in the public domain. This text is taken from Poems, 1908-1919, Project Gutenberg ebook #51575; the transcription's header, footer and licence were removed and nothing else was changed. You may copy, print and reuse it freely.
Cite as: John Drinkwater, Mad Tom Tatterman, in Poems, 1908-1919 (1919), text of Project Gutenberg ebook #51575, Laurel, https://laurelpoetry.com/poem/drinkwater-poems/mad-tom-tatterman.html, id L23049.
Form and metre
Mad Tom Tatterman is 24 lines in 6 stanzas of 4 lines each. The metre is trochaic heptameter, measured from the stress the words themselves fix (confidence 86%).
See other poems in trochaic heptameter.
Measured by Laurel's pipeline, not copied from a handbook: how stress and metre are counted, how rhyme is lettered, how a drifted rhyme is found. Where the dictionary cannot confirm a rhyme the letter is withheld, not guessed.
Rhyme words, stanza by stanza
The word that ends each line, lettered by the rhyme it makes; a dash is a line whose rhyme the dictionary could not confirm.
- 1 -A-A scavenger · backA · weather · sackA
- 2 -A-A cattle · leapA · alleys · sleepA
- 3 -A-A music · dreamsA · gutter · streamsA
- 4 -A-A me · dressedA · you · nestA
- 5 -A-A man · lackA · rusty · sackA
- 6 -A-A galilee · sleepA · heaven · keepA
Scansion, line by line
Each line with its syllable count and the stresses the words themselves fix: / stressed, ˘ unstressed, · a syllable the word leaves free and the metre decides. Read against trochaic heptameter. How this is done.
| Line | Syl. | Stress |
|---|---|---|
| “Old man, grey man, good man scavenger, | 9 | ······/˘˘ |
| Bearing is it eighty years upon your crumpled back? | 13 | /˘··/˘····/˘· |
| What is it you gather in the frosty weather, | 12 | ····/˘··/˘/˘ |
| Is there any treasure here to carry in your sack?” | 13 | ··/˘/˘··/˘··· |
| “I’ve a million acres and a thousand head of cattle, | 14 | ··/˘/˘··/˘··/˘ |
| And a foaming river where the silver salmon leap; | 13 | ··/˘/˘··/˘/˘· |
| But I’ve left fat valleys to dig in sullen alleys | 13 | ····/˘···/˘/˘ |
| Just because a twisted star rode by me in my sleep. | 13 | ····/˘······· |
| “I’ve a brain is dancing to an old forgotten music | 14 | ····/˘···˘/˘/˘ |
| Heard when all the world was just a crazy flight of dreams, | 13 | ········/˘··· |
| And don’t you know I scatter in the dirt along the gutter | 15 | ·····/˘···˘/·/˘ |
| Seeds that little ladies nursed by Babylonian streams? | 13 | ··/˘/˘···˘/˘· |
| “Mad Tom Tatterman, that is how they call me. | 11 | ··········· |
| Oh, they know so much, so much, all so neatly dressed; | 13 | ·········/˘·˘ |
| I’ve a tale to tell you--come and listen, will you?-- | 12 | ········/˘·· |
| One as ragged as the twigs that make a magpie’s nest. | 13 | ··/˘······/·· |
| “Ragged, oh, but very wise. You and this and that man, | 13 | /˘··/˘······· |
| All of you are making things that none of you would lack, | 13 | ····/˘······· |
| And so your eyes grow dusty, and so your limbs grow rusty-- | 14 | ·····/˘·····/˘ |
| But mad Tom Tatterman puts nothing in his sack. | 12 | ·······/˘··· |
| “Nothing in my sack, sirs, but the Sea of Galilee | 13 | /˘········/˘· |
| Was walked for mad Tom Tatterman, and when I go to sleep | 14 | ·············· |
| They’ll know that I have driven through the acres of broad heaven | 14 | ·····/··/˘··/˘ |
| Flocks are whiter than the flocks that all your shepherds keep.” | 13 | ··/˘······/˘· |
The reader shows the same poem with its rhymes coloured and a stress row above each line, the notes beside their stanzas, and any word's definition on a tap; the analysis page takes the whole book apart. How every part of this site was made.