Down To The Capital Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis
Rhyme Scheme: AABC DDEE FFGG HHDD IIJJ KKHH LLDD MMHH NNNN IIII AAAA HHHH KKKK OOOO PPQQ RRAA| I' be'n down to the Capital at Washington D C | A |
| Where Congerss meets and passes on the pensions ort to be | A |
| Allowed to old one legged chaps like me 'at sence the war | B |
| Don't wear their pants in pairs at all and yit how proud we are | C |
| - | |
| Old Flukens from our deestrick jes' turned in and tuck and made | D |
| Me stay with him whilse I was there and longer 'at I stayed | D |
| The more I kep' a wantin' jes' to kind o' git away | E |
| And yit a feelin' sociabler with Flukens ever' day | E |
| - | |
| You see I'd got the idy and I guess most folks agrees | F |
| 'At men as rich as him you know kin do jes' what they please | F |
| A man worth stacks o' money and a Congerssman and all | G |
| And livin' in a buildin' bigger'n Masonic Hall | G |
| - | |
| Now mind I'm not a faultin' Fluke he made his money square | H |
| We both was Forty niners and both bu'sted gittin' there | H |
| I weakened and onwindlassed and he stuck and stayed and made | D |
| His millions don't know what I'm worth untel my pension's paid | D |
| - | |
| But I was goin' to tell you er a ruther goin' to try | I |
| To tell you how he's livin' now gas burnin' mighty nigh | I |
| In ever' room about the house and ever' night about | J |
| Some blame reception goin' on and money goin' out | J |
| - | |
| They's people there from all the world jes' ever' kind 'at lives | K |
| Injuns and all and Senators and Ripresentatives | K |
| And girls you know jes' dressed in gauze and roses I declare | H |
| And even old men shamblin' round a waltzin' with 'em there | H |
| - | |
| And bands a tootin' circus tunes 'way in some other room | L |
| Jes' chokin' full o' hothouse plants and pinies and perfume | L |
| And fountains squirtin' stiddy all the time and statutes made | D |
| Out o' puore marble 'peared like sneakin' round there in the shade | D |
| - | |
| And Fluke he coaxed and begged and pled with me to take a hand | M |
| And sashay in amongst 'em crutch and all you understand | M |
| But when I said how tired I was and made fer open air | H |
| He follered and tel five o'clock we set a talkin' there | H |
| - | |
| My God says he Fluke says to me I'm tireder'n you | N |
| Don't putt up yer tobacker tel you give a man a chew | N |
| Set back a leetle furder in the shadder that'll do | N |
| I'm tireder'n you old man I'm tireder'n you | N |
| - | |
| You see that air old dome says he humped up ag'inst the sky | I |
| It's grand first time you see it but it changes by and by | I |
| And then it stays jes' thataway jes' anchored high and dry | I |
| Betwixt the sky up yender and the achin' of yer eye | I |
| - | |
| Night's purty not so purty though as what it ust to be | A |
| When my first wife was livin' You remember her says he | A |
| I nodded like and Fluke went on I wonder now ef she | A |
| Knows where I am and what I am and what I ust to be | A |
| - | |
| That band in there I ust to think 'at music couldn't wear | H |
| A feller out the way it does but that ain't music there | H |
| That's jes' a' imitation and like ever'thing I swear | H |
| I hear er see er tetch er taste er tackle anywhere | H |
| - | |
| It's all jes' artificial this 'ere high priced life of ours | K |
| The theory it's sweet enough tel it saps down and sours | K |
| They's no home left ner ties o' home about it By the powers | K |
| The whole thing's artificialer'n artificial flowers | K |
| - | |
| And all I want and could lay down and sob fer is to know | O |
| The homely things of homely life fer instance jes' to go | O |
| And set down by the kitchen stove Lord that 'u'd rest me so | O |
| Jes' set there like I ust to do and laugh and joke you know | O |
| - | |
| Jes' set there like I ust to do says Fluke a startin' in | P |
| 'Peared like to say the whole thing over to hisse'f ag'in | P |
| Then stopped and turned and kind o' coughed and stooped and fumbled fer | Q |
| Somepin' o' 'nuther in the grass I guess his handkercher | Q |
| - | |
| Well sence I'm back from Washington where I left Fluke a still | R |
| A leggin' fer me heart and soul on that air pension bill | R |
| I've half way struck the notion when I think o' wealth and sich | A |
| They's nothin' much patheticker'n jes' a bein' rich | A |
James Whitcomb Riley
(1)
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