Midwinter Madness Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis
Rhyme Scheme: ABCDEFGHIJKLMNOPQRA STUOMVMWXYZMA2OMB2C2 KD2E2KF2G2OMH2ME2G2H 2I2D2H2MD2MI2D2J2G2K 2G2L2D2E2D2H2MD2M2G2 KG2MG2D2D2H2K2G2D2K2 MN2| A month or twain to live on honeycomb | A |
| Is pleasant but to eat it for a year | B |
| Is simply beastly Thus the poet spake | C |
| Feeling how sticky all his stomach was | D |
| With hivings of ten thousand cheated bees | E |
| O wisdom that could shape immortal words | F |
| And frame a diet for dyspeptic man | G |
| But what of turnips Come a lyric now | H |
| Upon the luscious roots unsung as yet | I |
| Not roots I know but stalks still never mind | J |
| Metre and sauce will suit them just as well | K |
| Or shall we speak of omelettes Muse begin | L |
| To feed a fortnight on transmuted eggs | M |
| Would doubtless be both comforting and cheap | N |
| But oh the nausea on the fourteenth day | O |
| I'd rather read a book by Ezra Pound | P |
| Then choke the seven hundredth omelette down | Q |
| Just as I'd rather read some F S Flint | R |
| Than live a month or twain on honeycomb | A |
| - | |
| O Ezra Pound O omelette of the world | S |
| Concocted with strange herbs from dead Provence | T |
| Garlic from Italy and spice from Greece | U |
| Having suffered a rare Pound change on the way | O |
| How rarely shouldst thou taste were not the eggs | M |
| Laid in America and hither brought | V |
| Too late I don't like omelettes made with fowls | M |
| Take hence this Pound and put him to the test | W |
| Try him with acid see if he turn black | X |
| As will the best old silver when enraged | Y |
| At touching fungi of the baser sort | Z |
| Forgive digression These similitudes | M |
| Entrance me and I lose myself in them | A2 |
| As schoolboys picking flowers by the way | O |
| Escape the angry usher's vigilance | M |
| And then concealed behind a hedge or shed | B2 |
| Produce the awesome pipe or thrice lit fag | C2 |
| And make themselves incredibly unwell | K |
| My brain is bubbling and the thoughts will out | D2 |
| But Ezra Pound they turn again to thee | E2 |
| As surely as the lode stone to the Pole | K |
| Or as the dog to what he hath cast up | F2 |
| A simile of Solomon's not mine | G2 |
| And your shock head of damp unwholesome hay | O |
| Such as the cunning farmer oft declares | M |
| When stacked will perish by spontaneous fire | H2 |
| Frequents my dreams and makes them ludicrous | M |
| Thou most ridiculous sprite Thou ponderous fairy | E2 |
| Bourgeois Bohemian Innocent Verlaine | G2 |
| I read in The Booksellers' Circular | H2 |
| That in the University of Pa | I2 |
| Or Kans or Col or Mass or Tex or Ont | D2 |
| A line of normal pattern Saintsbury | H2 |
| You hold a fellowship in O merciful gods | M |
| Romanics which strange word interpreted | D2 |
| Means I suppose the Romance languages | M |
| Doubtless they read Italian in Pa | I2 |
| And some may speak French fluently in Ont | D2 |
| But German Ezra There's the bloody rub | J2 |
| It's not Romance and it is hard to learn | G2 |
| And Heine though an easy going chap | K2 |
| Would doubtless trounce you soundly if he knew | G2 |
| The sorry hash that you have made of him | L2 |
| But no you're not for immortality | D2 |
| Not even such as that of Freiligrath | E2 |
| Enshrined together with his Mohrenfurst | D2 |
| In unrelenting amber I hold you here | H2 |
| In a soap bubble's iridescent walls | M |
| The whimsy of a long midwinter night | D2 |
| And give you immortality enough | M2 |
| Thou sorry brat Thou transatlantic clown | G2 |
| That seek'st to ape the treadless Ariel | K |
| And out top Shelley in an aeroplane | G2 |
| Take the all obvious padding from your pants | M |
| And cut your hair and go to Pa again | G2 |
| Or Kans or Col or Mass or Tex or Ont | D2 |
| Or even Oomp if such a place exist | D2 |
| And take with you the poets you admire | H2 |
| Both Yeats and Flint to charm the folk of Oomp | K2 |
| And write again for Munsey's Magazine | G2 |
| Of your good brother Everyone Just God | D2 |
| Am even I of his relationship | K2 |
| So end as you began or even worse | M |
| No matter so 'tis in America | N2 |
Edward Shanks
(1)
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