Fame [one Thousand Years I Slept Beneath The Sod] Poem Rhyme Scheme

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One thousand years I slept beneath the sod	A
My sleep in beginning	B
Then by the action of some scurvy god	A
Who happened then to recollect my sinning	B
I was revived and given another inning	B
On breaking from my grave I saw a crowd	C
A formless multitude of men and women	D
Gathered about a ruin Clamors loud	C
I heard and curses deep enough to swim in	E
And pointing at me one said 'Let's put him in '	F
Then each turned on me with an evil look	G
As in my ragged shroud I stood and shook	G
	-
'Nay good Posterity ' I cried 'forbear	H
If that's a jail I fain would be remaining	B
Outside for truly I should little care	H
To catch my death of cold I'm just regaining	B
The life lost long ago by my disdaining	B
To take precautions against draughts like those	I
That haply penetrate that cracked and splitting	B
Old structure ' Then an aged wight arose	I
From a chair of state in which he had been sitting	B
And with preliminary coughing spitting	B
And wheezing said ''T is not a jail we're sure	H
Whate'er it may have been when it was newer	H
	-
''T was found two centuries ago o'ergrown	E
With brush and ivy all undoored ungated	C
And in restoring it we found a stone	E
Set here and there in the dilapidated	C
And crumbling frieze inscribed in antiquated	C
Big characters with certain uncouth names	J
Which we conclude were borne of old by awful	K
Rapscallions guilty of all sinful games	J
Vagrants engaged in purposes unlawful	K
And orators less sensible than jawful	K
So each ten years we add to the long row	H
A name the most unworthy that we know '	-
	-
'But why ' I asked 'put me in ' He replied	C
'You look it' and the judgment pained me greatly	K
Right gladly would I then and there have died	C
But that I'd risen from the grave so lately	K
But on examining that solemn stately	K
Old ruin I remarked 'My friend you err	H
The truth of this is just what I expected	C
This building in its time made quite a stir	H
I lived was famous too when 't was erected	C
The names here first inscribed were much respected	C
This is the Hall of Fame or I'm a stork	L
And this goat pasture once was called New York '	-

Ambrose Bierce

Fame [one Thousand Years I Slept Beneath The Sod] Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis

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