Subterranean Phantasies Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis

Rhyme Scheme: ABACCDD EFEFFGG HHH HII HHHHHJJ DFDFKKK LLLLLLL LMLMMNN OPOPPQQ

I died As meekly in the earth I layA
With shriveled fingers reverently foldedB
The worm uncivil engineer my clayA
Tunneled industriously and the mole didC
My body could not dodge them but my soul didC
For that had flown from this terrestrial ballD
And I was rid of it for good and allD
-
So there I lay debating what to doE
What measures might most usefully be takenF
To circumvent the subterranean crewE
Of anthropophagi and save my baconF
My fortitude was all this while unshakenF
But any gentleman of course protestsG
Against receiving uninvited guestsG
-
However proud he might be of his meatsH
Not even Apicius nor I think LucullusH
Wasted on tramps his culinary sweetsH
' Aut Caesar ' say judicious hosts ' aut nullus '-
And though when Marcius came unbidden TullusH
Aufidius feasted him because he starvedI
Marcius by Tullus afterward was carvedI
-
We feed the hungry as the book commandsH
For men might question else our orthodoxyH
But do not care to see the outstretched handsH
And so we minister to them by proxyH
When Want in his improper person knocks heH
Finds we're engaged The graveworm's very freshJ
To think we like his presence in the fleshJ
-
So as I said I lay in doubt in allD
That underworld no judges could determineF
My rights When Death approaches them they fallD
And falling naturally soil their ermineF
And still below ground as above the verminK
That work by dark and silent methods winK
The case the burial case that one is inK
-
Cases at law so slowly get aheadL
Even when the right is visibly uncloudedL
That if all men are classed as quick and deadL
The judges all are dead though some unshroudedL
Pray Jove that when they're actually crowdedL
On Styx's brink and Charon rows in sightL
His bark prove worse than Cerberus's biteL
-
Ah Cerberus if you had but begotL
A race of three mouthed dogs for man to nourishM
And woman to caress the muse had notL
Lamented the decay of virtues currishM
And triple hydrophobia now would flourishM
For barking biting kissing to employN
Canine repeaters were indeed a joyN
-
Lord how we cling to this vile world Here IO
Whose dust was laid ere I began this carpingP
By moles and worms and such familiar fryO
Run through and through am singing still and harpingP
Of mundane matters flatting too and sharpingP
I hate the Angel of the Sleeping CupQ
So I'm for getting and for shutting upQ

Ambrose Bierce



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