The Thought-reader Of Angels Poem Rhyme Scheme

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We hev tumbled ez dust	A
Or ez worms of the yearth	B
Wot we looked for hez bust	A
We are objects of mirth	B
They have played us old Pards of the river they hev played us for all we was worth	B
	-
Was it euchre or draw	C
Cut us off in our bloom	D
Was it faro whose law	C
Is uncertain ez doom	D
Or an innocent Jack pot that opened was to us ez the jaws of the tomb	D
	-
It was nary It kem	E
With some sharps from the States	F
Ez folks sez All things kem	E
To the fellers ez waits	F
And we'd waited six months for that suthin' had me and Bill Nye in such straits	F
	-
And it kem It was small	G
It was dream like and weak	H
It wore store clothes that's all	G
That we knew so to speak	H
But it called itself Billson Thought Reader which ain't half a name for its cheek	H
	-
He could read wot you thought	I
And he knew wot you did	J
He could find things untaught	J
No matter whar hid	J
And he went to it blindfold and smiling being led by the hand like a kid	J
	-
Then I glanced at Bill Nye	K
And I sez without pride	J
You'll excuse us We've nigh	K
On to nothin' to hide	J
But if some gent will lend us a twenty we'll hide it whar folks shall decide	J
	-
It was Billson's own self	L
Who forked over the gold	J
With a smile Thar's the pelf	L
He remarked I make bold	J
To advance it and go twenty better that I'll find it without being told	J
	-
Then I passed it to Nye	K
Who repassed it to me	M
And we bandaged each eye	K
Of that Billson ez we	M
Softly dropped that coin in his coat pocket ez the hull crowd around us could see	M
	-
That was all He'd one hand	J
Locked in mine Then he groped	J
We could not understand	J
Why that minit Nye sloped	J
For we knew we'd the dead thing on Billson even more than we dreamed of or hoped	J
	-
For he stood thar in doubt	J
With his hand to his head	J
Then he turned and lit out	J
Through the door where Nye fled	J
Draggin' me and the rest of us arter while we larfed till we thought we was dead	J
	-
Till he overtook Nye	K
And went through him Words fail	N
For what follers Kin I	K
Paint our agonized wail	N
Ez he drew from Nye's pocket that twenty wot we sworn was in his own coat tail	N
	-
And it was But when found	J
It proved bogus and brass	O
And the question goes round	J
How the thing kem to pass	O
Or if passed woz it passed thar by William and I listens and echoes Alas	O
	-
For the days when the skill	P
Of the keerds was no blind	J
When no effort of will	P
Could beat four of a kind	J
When the thing wot you held in your hand Pard was worth more than the thing in your mind	J

Bret Harte (francis)

The Thought-reader Of Angels Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis

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