In Memoriam Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis
Rhyme Scheme: AABBCDEEFFGGHI AAJJJ CCKKLLCC MMNNOOPPQQRRSSTTT UUVNQQWW J| Beauty they called her wasn't a maid | A |
| Of many things in the world afraid | A |
| She wasn't a maid who turned and fled | B |
| At sight of a mouse alive or dead | B |
| She wasn't a maid a man could 'shoo' | C |
| By shouting however abruptly 'Boo ' | D |
| She wasn't a maid who'd run and hide | E |
| If her face and figure you idly eyed | E |
| She was'nt a maid who'd blush and shake | F |
| When asked what part of the fowl she'd take | F |
| I blush myself to confess she preferred | G |
| And commonly got the most of the bird | G |
| She wasn't a maid to simper because | H |
| She was asked to sing if she ever was | I |
| - | |
| In short if the truth must be displayed | A |
| In puris Beauty wasn't a maid | A |
| Beauty furry and fine and fat | J |
| Yawny and clawy sleek and all that | J |
| Was a pampered and spoiled Angora cat | J |
| - | |
| I loved her well and I'm proud that she | C |
| Wasn't indifferent quite to me | C |
| In fact I have sometimes gone so far | K |
| You know mesdames how silly men are | K |
| As to think she preferred excuse the conceit | L |
| My legs upon which to sharpen her feet | L |
| Perhaps it shouldn't have gone for much | C |
| But I started and thrilled beneath her touch | C |
| - | |
| Ah well that's ancient history now | M |
| The fingers of Time have touched my brow | M |
| And I hear with never a start to day | N |
| That Beauty has passed from the earth away | N |
| Gone her death song it killed her sung | O |
| Gone her fiddlestrings all unstrung | O |
| Gone to the bliss of a new regime | P |
| Of turkey smothered in seas of cream | P |
| Of roasted mice a superior breed | Q |
| To science unknown and the coarser need | Q |
| Of the living cat cooked by the flame | R |
| Of the dainty soul of an erring dame | R |
| Who gave to purity all her care | S |
| Neglecting the duty of daily prayer | S |
| Crisp delicate mice just touched with spice | T |
| By the ghost of a breeze from Paradise | T |
| A very digestible sort of mice | T |
| - | |
| Let scoffers sneer I propose to hold | U |
| That Beauty has mounted the Stair of Gold | U |
| To eat and eat forever and aye | V |
| On a velvet rug from a golden tray | N |
| But the human spirit that is my creed | Q |
| Rots in the ground like a barren seed | Q |
| That is my creed abhorred by Man | W |
| But approved by Cat since time began | W |
| Till Death shall kick at me thundering 'Scat ' | - |
| I shall hold to that I shall hold to that | J |
Ambrose Bierce
(1)
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