Her Letter Poem Rhyme Scheme

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I'm sitting alone by the fire	A
Dressed just as I came from the dance	B
In a robe even you would admire	C
It cost a cool thousand in France	B
I'm be diamonded out of all reason	D
My hair is done up in a cue	E
In short sir the belle of the season	D
Is wasting an hour upon you	E
	-
A dozen engagements I've broken	D
I left in the midst of a set	F
Likewise a proposal half spoken	D
That waits on the stairs for me yet	F
They say he'll be rich when he grows up	G
And then he adores me indeed	H
And you sir are turning your nose up	G
Three thousand miles off as you read	I
	-
And how do I like my position	D
And what do I think of New York	J
And now in my higher ambition	D
With whom do I waltz flirt or talk	K
And isn't it nice to have riches	L
And diamonds and silks and all that	M
And aren't they a change to the ditches	L
And tunnels of Poverty Flat	M
	-
Well yes if you saw us out driving	N
Each day in the Park four in hand	O
If you saw poor dear mamma contriving	N
To look supernaturally grand	O
If you saw papa's picture as taken	D
By Brady and tinted at that	M
You'd never suspect he sold bacon	D
And flour at Poverty Flat	M
	-
And yet just this moment when sitting	N
In the glare of the grand chandelier	P
In the bustle and glitter befitting	N
The finest soiree of the year	P
In the mists of a gaze de Chambery	P
And the hum of the smallest of talk	N
Somehow Joe I thought of the Ferry	P
And the dance that we had on The Fork	N
	-
Of Harrison's barn with its muster	P
Of flags festooned over the wall	Q
Of the candles that shed their soft lustre	P
And tallow on head dress and shawl	Q
Of the steps that we took to one fiddle	R
Of the dress of my queer vis a vis	S
And how I once went down the middle	R
With the man that shot Sandy McGee	P
	-
Of the moon that was quietly sleeping	N
On the hill when the time came to go	N
Of the few baby peaks that were peeping	N
From under their bedclothes of snow	N
Of that ride that to me was the rarest	T
Of the something you said at the gate	U
Ah Joe then I wasn't an heiress	V
To the best paying lead in the State	U
	-
Well well it's all past yet it's funny	P
To think as I stood in the glare	P
Of fashion and beauty and money	P
That I should be thinking right there	P
Of some one who breasted high water	P
And swam the North Fork and all that	M
Just to dance with old Folinsbee's daughter	P
The Lily of Poverty Flat	M
	-
But goodness what nonsense I'm writing	N
Mamma says my taste still is low	N
Instead of my triumphs reciting	N
I'm spooning on Joseph heigh ho	N
And I'm to be finished by travel	R
Whatever's the meaning of that	M
Oh why did papa strike pay gravel	R
In drifting on Poverty Flat	M
	-
Good night here's the end of my paper	P
Good night if the longitude please	W
For maybe while wasting my taper	P
Your sun's climbing over the trees	W
But know if you haven't got riches	L
And are poor dearest Joe and all that	M
That my heart's somewhere there in the ditches	L
And you've struck it on Poverty Flat	M

Bret Harte (francis)

Her Letter Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis

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