A Wreath Of Immortelles Poem Rhyme Scheme

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Ambrose Bierce

A Wreath Of Immortelles Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis

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LORING PICKERING	A
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After Pope	B
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Here rests a writer great but not immense	C
Born destitute of feeling and of sense	C
No power he but o'er his brain desired	D
How not to suffer it to be inspired	D
Ideas unto him were all unknown	E
Proud of the words which only were his own	E
So unreflecting so confused his mind	F
Torpid in error indolently blind	F
A fever Heaven to quicken him applied	G
But rather than revive the sluggard died	G
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A WATER PIRATE	H
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Pause stranger whence you lightly tread	I
Bill Carr's immoral part has fled	I
For him no heart of woman burned	J
But all the rivers' heads he turned	J
Alas he now lifts up his eyes	K
In torment and for water cries	K
Entreating that he may procure	L
One dropp to cool his parched McClure	M
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C P BERRY	N
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Here's crowbait ravens too and daws	O
Flock hither to advance their caws	O
And with a sudden courage armed	P
Devour the foe who once alarmed	P
In life and death a fair deceit	Q
Nor strong to harm nor good to eat	Q
King bogey of the scarecrow host	R
When known the least affrighting most	R
Though light his hand his mind was dark	S
He left on earth a straw Berry mark	S
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THE REV JOSEPH	T
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He preached that sickness he could floor	U
By prayer and by commanding	A
When sick himself he sent for four	U
Physicians in good standing	A
He was struck dead despite their care	V
For fearing their dissension	W
He secretly put up a prayer	V
Thus drawing God's attention	W
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Cynic perforce from studying mankind	F
In the false volume of his single mind	F
He damned his fellows for his own unworth	X
And bad himself thought nothing good on earth	X
Yet still so judging and so erring still	Y
Observing well but understanding ill	Y
His learning all was got by dint of sight	Z
And what he learned by day he lost by night	Z
When hired to flatter he would never cease	O
Till those who'd paid for praises paid for peace	O
Not wholly miser and but half a knave	A2
He yearned to squander but he lived to save	A2
And did not for he could not cheat the grave	A2
Hic jacet Pixley scribe and muleteer	V
Step lightly stranger anywhere but here	V
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McAllister of talents rich and rare	V
Lies at this spot at finish of his race	O
Alike to him if it is here or there	V
The one spot that he cared for was the ace	O
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Here lies Joseph Redding who gave us the catfish	B2
He dined upon every fish except that fish	B2
'Twas touching to hear him expounding his fad	C2
With a heart full of zeal and a mouth full of shad	C2
The catfish miaowed with unspeakable woe	D2
When Death the lone fisherman landed their Jo	D2
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Judge Sawyer whom in vain the people tried	G
To push from power here is laid aside	G
Death only from the bench could ever start	E2
The sluggish load of his immortal part	E2
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John Irish went one luckless day	F2
To loaf and fish at San Jose	F2
He got no loaf he got no fish	B2
They brained him with an empty dish	B2
They laid him in this place asleep	G2
O come ye crocodiles and weep	G2
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In Sacramento City here	V
This wooden monument we rear	V
In memory of Dr May	F2
Whose smile even Death could not allay	F2
He's buried Heaven alone knows where	V
And only the hyenas care	V
This May pole merely marks the spot	H2
Where ere the wretch began to rot	H2
Fame's trumpet with its brazen bray	F2
Bawled 'Who and why was Dr May '	-
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Dennis Spencer's mortal coil	I2
Here is laid away to spoil	I2
Great riparian who said	I
Not a stream should leave its bed	I
Now his soul would like a river	V
Turned upon its parching liver	V
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For those this mausoleum is erected	J2
Who Stanford to the Upper House elected	J2
Their luck is less or their promotion slower	V
For dead they were elected to the Lower	V
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Beneath this stone lies Reuben Lloyd	K2
Of breath deprived of sense devoid	K2
The Templars' Captain General he	N
So formidable seemed to be	N
That had he not been on his back	L2
Death ne'er had ventured to attack	L2
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Here lies Barnes in all his glory	N
Master he of oratOry	N
When he died the people weeping	A
For they thought him only sleeping	A
Cried 'Although he now is quiet	H
And his tongue is not a riot	H
Soon the spell that binds him breaking	A
He a motion will be making	A
Then alas he'll rise and speak	M2
In support of it a week '	-
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Rash mortal stay thy feet and look around	N2
This vacant tomb as yet is holy ground	N2
But soon alas Jim Fair will occupy	O2
These premises then holiness good bye	O2
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Here Salomon's body reposes	F2
Bring roses ye rebels bring roses	F2
Set all of your drumsticks a rolling	A
Discretion and Valor extrolling	A
Discretion he always retreated	J2
And Valor the dead he defeated	J2
Brings roses ye loyal bring roses	F2
As patriot here he re poses	F2
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When Waterman ended his bright career	V
He left his wet name to history here	V
To carry it with him he did not care	V
'Twould tantalize spirits of statesmen There	V
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Here lie the remains of Fred Emerson Brooks	F2
A poet as every one knew by his looks	F2
Who hadn't unluckily met with his books	F2
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On civic occasions he sprang to the fore	V
With poems consisting of stanzas three score	V
The men whom they deafened enjoyed them the more	V
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Of reason his fantasy knew not the check	A
All forms of inharmony came at his beck	A
The weight of his ignorance fractured his neck	A
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In this peaceful spot so the grave diggers say	F2
With pen ink and paper they laid him away	F2
The Poet elect of the Judgment Day	F2
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George Perry here lies stiff and stark	A
With stone at foot and stone at head	I
His heart was dark his mind was dark	A
'Ignorant ass ' the people said	I
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Not ignorant but skilled alas	F2
In all the secrets of his trade	P2
He knew more ways to be an ass	F2
Than any ass that ever brayed	P2
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Here lies the last of Deacon Fitch	Q2
Whose business was to melt the pitch	Q2
Convenient to this sacred spot	P2
Lies Sammy who applied it hot	P2
'Tis hard so much alike they smell	R2
	-
One's grave from t'other's grave to tell	R2
But when his tomb the Deacon's burst	P2
Of two he'll always be the first	P2
He'll see by studying the stones	F2
That he's obtained his proper bones	F2
Then seeking Sammy's vault unlock it	P2
And put that person in his pocket	P2
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Beneath this stone O'Donnell's tongue's at rest	P2
Our noses by his spirit still addressed	P2
Living or dead he's equally Satanic	A
His noise a terror and his smell a panic	A
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When Gabriel blows a dreadful blast	P2
And swears that Time's forever past	P2
Days weeks months years all one at last	P2
Then Asa Fiske laid here distressed	P2
Will beat and skin his hand his breast	P2
There'll be no rate of interest	P2
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Step lightly stranger here Jerome B Cox	F2
Is for the second time in a bad box	F2
He killed a man the labor party rose	F2
And showed him by its love how killing goes	F2
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When Vrooman here lay down to sleep	G2
The other dead awoke to weep	G2
'Since he no longer lives ' they said	P2
'Small honor comes of being dead '	-
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Here Porter Ashe is laid to rest	P2
Green grows the grass upon his breast	P2
This patron of the turf I vow	S2
Ne'er served it half so well as now	S2
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Like a cold fish escaping from its tank	A
Hence fled the soul of Joe Russel crank	A
He cried 'Cold water ' roaring like a beast	P2
'Twas thrown upon him and the music ceased	P2
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Here Estee rests He shook a basket	P2
When like a jewel from its casket	P2
Fell Felton out Said Estee shouting	A
With mirth 'I've given you an outing '	-
Then told him to go back He wouldn't	P2
Then tried to put him back He couldn't	P2
So Estee died his blood congealing	A
In Felton's growing shadow squealing	A
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Mourn here for one Bruner called Elwood	P2
He doesn't he never did smell good	P2
To noses of critics and scholars	F2
If now he'd an office to sell could	P2
He sell it O no where in Hell could	P2
He find a cool four hundred dollars	F2
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Here Stanford lies who thought it odd	P2
That he should go to meet his God	P2
He looked until his eyes grew dim	T2
For God to hasten to meet him	T2