The Statesmen Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis
Rhyme Scheme: ABAB CDCD EFEF GHG IJIJ KLKL KMKM KNKN OPOP QRQR STST JUJU VWVW| How blest the land that counts among | A |
| Her sons so many good and wise | B |
| To execute great feats of tongue | A |
| When troubles rise | B |
| - | |
| Behold them mounting every stump | C |
| By speech our liberty to guard | D |
| Observe their courage see them jump | C |
| And come down hard | D |
| - | |
| 'Walk up walk up ' each cries aloud | E |
| 'And learn from me what you must do | F |
| To turn aside the thunder cloud | E |
| The earthquake too | F |
| - | |
| 'Beware the wiles of yonder quack | G |
| Who stuffs the ears of all that pass | H |
| I I alone can show that black | G |
| Is white as grass ' | - |
| - | |
| They shout through all the day and break | I |
| The silence of the night as well | J |
| They'd make I wish they'd go and make | I |
| Of Heaven a Hell | J |
| - | |
| A advocates free silver B | K |
| Free trade and C free banking laws | L |
| Free board clothes lodging would from me | K |
| Win wamr applause | L |
| - | |
| Lo D lifts up his voice 'You see | K |
| The single tax on land would fall | M |
| On all alike ' More evenly | K |
| No tax at all | M |
| - | |
| 'With paper money ' bellows E | K |
| 'We'll all be rich as lords ' No doubt | N |
| And richest of the lot will be | K |
| The chap without | N |
| - | |
| As many 'cures' as addle wits | O |
| Who know not what the ailment is | P |
| Meanwhile the patient foams and spits | O |
| Like a gin fizz | P |
| - | |
| Alas poor Body Politic | Q |
| Your fate is all too clearly read | R |
| To be not altogether quick | Q |
| Nor very dead | R |
| - | |
| You take your exercise in squirms | S |
| Your rest in fainting fits between | T |
| 'Tis plain that your disorder's worms | S |
| Worms fat and lean | T |
| - | |
| Worm Capital Worm Labor dwell | J |
| Within your maw and muscle's scope | U |
| Their quarrels make your life a Hell | J |
| Your death a hope | U |
| - | |
| God send you find not such an end | V |
| To ills however sharp and huge | W |
| God send you convalesce God send | V |
| You vermifuge | W |
Ambrose Bierce
(1)
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About The Statesmen
The Statesmen is a poem by Ambrose Bierce. This page includes the poem text, poet information, related topics, comments, and similar poems.
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