The Fisherman's Feast. Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis
Rhyme Scheme: ABABCDCD EFEGHDHD IJIJKDKD ILILHDHD MNMNLDLD AOAOPDPD| Of all the gracious gifts of Spring | A |
| Is there another can safely surpass | B |
| This delicate voluptuous thing | A |
| This dapple green plump shouldered bass | B |
| Upon a damask napkin laid | C |
| What exhalations superfine | D |
| Our gustatory nerves pervade | C |
| Provoking quenchless thirsts for wine | D |
| - | |
| The ancients loved this noble fish | E |
| And coming from the kitchen fire | F |
| All piping hot upon a dish | E |
| What raptures did he not inspire | G |
| Fish should swim twice they used to say | H |
| Once in their native vapid brine | D |
| And then a better way | H |
| You understand Fetch on the wine | D |
| - | |
| Ah dainty monarch of the flood | I |
| How often have I cast for you | J |
| How often sadly seen you scud | I |
| Where weeds and pussy willows grew | J |
| How often have you filched my bait | K |
| How often have you snapped my treacherous line | D |
| Yet here I have you on this plate | K |
| You shall swim twice and now in wine | D |
| - | |
| And harkee garcon let the blood | I |
| Of cobwebbed years be spilt for him | L |
| Aye in a rich Burgundy flood | I |
| This piscatorial pride should swim | L |
| So were he living he should say | H |
| He gladly died for me and mine | D |
| And as it was his native spray | H |
| He'd lash the sauce What ho the wine | D |
| - | |
| I would it were ordained for me | M |
| To share your fate oh finny friend | N |
| I surely were not loath to be | M |
| Reserved for such a noble end | N |
| For when old Chronos gaunt and grim | L |
| At last reels in his ruthless line | D |
| What were my ecstacy to swim | L |
| In wine in wine in glorious wine | D |
| - | |
| Well here's a health to you sweet Spring | A |
| And prithee whilst I stick to earth | O |
| Come hither every year and bring | A |
| The boons provocative of mirth | O |
| And should your stock of bass run low | P |
| However much I might repine | D |
| I think I might survive the blow | P |
| If plied with wine and still more wine | D |
Eugene Field
(1)
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The Fisherman's Feast. is a poem by Eugene Field. This page includes the poem text, poet information, related topics, comments, and similar poems.
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