The Choir At Pixley Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis
Rhyme Scheme: AABBCCDD EE FGGHH IIJKCCLL MMJJNNLL| The choir we had in Pixley wasn't much for looks an' styles | A |
| But today if I could hear it I would walk a hundred miles | A |
| There warn't a singer in it that could boast she 'd crossed the seas | B |
| To study with the masters and to learn to make high C's | B |
| There warn't no variations warn't no frills that folks think grand | C |
| Warn't no singin' operatic that no one can understand | C |
| But jus' plain gospel singin' like the music of the birds | D |
| An' the congregation didn't have to strain to catch the words | D |
| - | |
| There were jus' four people in it Mrs Tompkins Mrs Botts | E |
| Arthur Tweedle was the tenor an' the basso Jeptha Watts | E |
| Oh 't would do you good to hear 'em singin' low 'Abide With Me ' | - |
| An' 'Jerusalem the Golden' an' 'The City by the Sea | F |
| 'There was nothin' high falutin' 'bout the songs they used t' sing | G |
| Jus' sweet humble hymns of praises to the Master an' the King | G |
| Jus' sweet simple strains of music but my soul they always stirred | H |
| An' I liked it better mebbe coz I understood each word | H |
| - | |
| An' I mind the day in Pixley when a city woman came | I |
| To our little church to visit an' I mind her burnin' shame | I |
| When she sneered about the singin' an' she scoffed about the choir | J |
| An' I mind the way she snickered an' the way she roused my ire | K |
| An' how I up and told her that the music she thought grand | C |
| Was the music that she paid for an' she couldn't understand | C |
| An' I said the choir ain't singin' now for you an' never would | L |
| But it's singin' for the Master an' I guess He 'd call it good | L |
| - | |
| The little church in Pixley ain't a little church no more | M |
| It's took in wealthy people an' its steeples skyward soar | M |
| It's got a marble altar an' it's got a tony choir | J |
| Of singers trained in Europe an' a singin' now for hire | J |
| They 're runnin' now to solos an' they advertise the fact | N |
| That So and So is goin' t' sing a large crowd to attract | N |
| But I can't say I like it why it isn't half so good | L |
| As the little choir that used t' sing the songs we understood | L |
Edgar Albert Guest
(1)
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The Choir At Pixley is a poem by Edgar Albert Guest. This page includes the poem text, poet information, related topics, comments, and similar poems.
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