'black Bart, Po8' Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis
Rhyme Scheme: ABAB CDCD BEBE FGFG HBHB IJIK EDED EGEG LLLL MEME| Welcome good friend as you have served your term | A |
| And found the joy of crime to be a fiction | B |
| I hope you'll hold your present faith stand firm | A |
| And not again be open to conviction | B |
| - | |
| Your sins though scarlet once are now as wool | C |
| You've made atonement for all past offenses | D |
| And conjugated 'twas an awful pull | C |
| The verb 'to pay' in all its moods and tenses | D |
| - | |
| You were a dreadful criminal by Heaven | B |
| I think there never was a man so sinful | E |
| We've all a pinch or two of Satan's leaven | B |
| But you appeared to have an even skinful | E |
| - | |
| Earth shuddered with aversion at your name | F |
| Rivers fled backward gravitation scorning | G |
| The sea and sky from thinking on your shame | F |
| Grew lobster red at eve and in the morning | G |
| - | |
| But still red handed at your horrid trade | H |
| You wrought to reason deaf and to compassion | B |
| But now with gods and men your peace is made | H |
| I beg you to be good and in the fashion | B |
| - | |
| What's that you 'ne'er again will rob a stage' | I |
| What did you do so Faith I didn't know it | J |
| Was that what threw poor Themis in a rage | I |
| I thought you were convicted as a poet | K |
| - | |
| I own it was a comfort to my soul | E |
| And soothed it better than the deepest curses | D |
| To think they'd got one poet in a hole | E |
| Where though he wrote he could not print his verses | D |
| - | |
| I thought that Welcker Plunkett Brooks and all | E |
| The ghastly crew who always are begriming | G |
| With villain couplets every page and wall | E |
| Might be arrested and 'run in' for rhyming | G |
| - | |
| And then Parnassus would be left to me | L |
| And Pegasus should bear me up it gaily | L |
| Nor down a steep place run into the sea | L |
| As now he must be tempted to do daily | L |
| - | |
| Well grab the lyre strings hearties and begin | M |
| Bawl your harsh souls all out upon the gravel | E |
| I must endure you for you'll never sin | M |
| By robbing coaches until dead men travel | E |
Ambrose Bierce
(1)
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