The Fountain Refilled Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis

Rhyme Scheme: AABB CCDD EEFF AAGG HHII JJ K LLMM NNCO PPQQ RROO SSTT SSQQ OOSS QQJJ JJJJ SSOO JJJJ JJUU JJJJ QQSS OOJJ QQOO SSJJ SSQQ JQSS SSJJ SSJJ OOSS

Of Hans Pietro ShanahanA
Who was a most ingenious manA
The Muse of History recordsB
That he'd get drunk as twenty lordsB
-
He'd get so truly drunk that menC
Stood by to marvel at him whenC
His slow advance along the streetD
Was but a vain cycloidal featD
-
And when 'twas fated that he fallE
With a wide geographical sprawlE
They signified assent by soundsF
Heard faintly at its utmost boundsF
-
And yet this Mr ShanahanA
Who was a most ingenious manA
Cast not on wine his thirsty eyesG
When it was red or otherwiseG
-
All malt or spirituous topeH
He loathed as cats dissent from soapH
And cider if it touched his lipI
Evoked a groan at every sipI
-
But still as heretofore explainedJ
He not infrequently was grainedJ
I'm not of those who call it 'corned '-
Coarse speech I've always duly scornedK
-
Though truth to say and that's but rightL
Strong drink it hath an adder's biteL
Was what had put him in the mudM
The only kind he used was bloodM
-
Alas that an immortal soulN
Addicted to the flowing bowlN
The emptied flagon should againC
Replenish from a neighbor's veinO
-
But Mr Shanahan was soP
Constructed and his taste that lowP
Nor more deplorable was heQ
In kind of thirst than in degreeQ
-
For sometimes fifty souls would payR
The debt of nature in a dayR
To free him from the shame and painO
Of dread Sobriety's misreignO
-
His native land proud of its senseS
Of his unique inabstinenceS
Abated something of its prideT
At thought of his unfilled insideT
-
And some the boldness had to sayS
'Twere well if he were called awayS
To slake his thirst forevermoreQ
In oceans of celestial goreQ
-
But Hans Pietro ShanahanO
Who was a most ingenious manO
Knew that his thirst was mortal soS
Remained unsainted here belowS
-
Unsainted and unsaintly forQ
He neither went to glory norQ
To abdicate his power deignedJ
Where under Providence he reignedJ
-
But kept his Boss's power accurstJ
To serve his wild uncommon thirstJ
Which now had grown so truly greatJ
It was a drain upon the StateJ
-
Soon soon there came a time alasS
When he turned down an empty glassS
All practicable means were vainO
His special wassail to obtainO
-
In vain poor Decimation triedJ
To furnish forth the needful tideJ
And Civil War as vainly shedJ
Her niggard offering of redJ
-
Poor Shanahan his thirst increasedJ
Until he wished himself deceasedJ
Invoked the firearm and the knifeU
But could not die to save his lifeU
-
He was so dry his own veins madeJ
No answer to the seeking bladeJ
So parched that when he would have passedJ
Away he could not breathe his lastJ
-
'Twas then when almost in despairQ
Unlaced his shoon unkempt his hairQ
He saw as in a dream a wayS
To wet afresh his mortal clayS
-
Yes Hans Pietro ShanahanO
Who was a most ingenious manO
Saw freedom and with joy and prideJ
'Thalassa or Thalatta ' criedJ
-
Straight to the Aldermen went heQ
With many a 'pull' and many a feeQ
And many a most corrupt 'combine'O
The Press for twenty cents a lineO
-
Held out and fought him O God blessS
Forevermore the holy PressS
Till he had franchises completeJ
For trolley lines on every streetJ
-
The cars were builded and they sayS
Were run on rails laid every wayS
Rhomboidal roads and circularQ
And oval everywhere a carQ
-
Square dodecagonal in greatJ
Esteem the shape called FigureQ
And many other kinds of shapesS
As various as tails of apesS
-
No other group of men's abodesS
E'er had such odd electric roadsS
That winding in and winding outJ
Began and ended all aboutJ
-
No city had unless in MarsS
That city's wealth of trolley carsS
They ran by day they flew by nightJ
And O the sorry sorry sightJ
-
And Hans Pietro ShanahanO
Who was a most ingenious manO
Incessantly the Muse recordsS
Lay drunk as twenty thousand lordsS

Ambrose Bierce



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