Fame Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis

Rhyme Scheme: A BCCBDEEFGGHHIJJKLL A MGMGGGNNGGOPMMOPP A QRQRGGSTSTUUGVVGUUQQ GGWWGGMMXYGGAAAGG GGZZGGGGGG

IA
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Once in a dream I saw a manB
With haggard face and tangled hairC
And eyes that nursed as wild a careC
As gaunt Starvation ever canB
And in his hand he held a wandD
Whose magic touch gave life and thoughtE
Unto a form his fancy wroughtE
And robed with coloring so grandF
It seemed the reflex of some childG
Of Heaven fair and undefiledG
A face of purity and loveH
To woo him into worlds aboveH
And as I gazed with dazzled eyesI
A gleaming smile lit up his lipsJ
As his bright soul from its eclipseJ
Went flashing into ParadiseK
Then tardy Fame came through the doorL
And found a picture nothing moreL
-
IIA
-
And once I saw a man aloneM
In abject poverty with handG
Uplifted o'er a block of stoneM
That took a shape at his commandG
And smiled upon him fair and goodG
A perfect work of womanhoodG
Save that the eyes might never weepN
Nor weary hands be crossed in sleepN
Nor hair that fell from crown to wristG
Be brushed away caressed and kissedG
And as in awe I gazed on herO
I saw the sculptor's chisel fallP
I saw him sink without a moanM
Sink lifeless at the feet of stoneM
And lie there like a worshiperO
Fame crossed the threshold of the hallP
And found a statue that was allP
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IIIA
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And once I saw a man who drewQ
A gloom about him like a cloakR
And wandered aimlessly The fewQ
Who spoke of him at all but spokeR
Disparagingly of a mindG
The Fates had faultily designedG
Too indolent for modern timesS
Too fanciful and full of whimsT
For talking to himself in rhymesS
And scrawling never heard of hymnsT
The idle life to which he clungU
Was worthless as the songs he sungU
I saw him in my vision filledG
With rapture o'er a spray of bloomV
The wind threw in his lonely roomV
And of the sweet perfume it spilledG
He drank to drunkenness and flungU
His long hair back and laughed and sungU
And clapped his hands as children doQ
At fairy tales they listen toQ
While from his flying quill there drippedG
Such music on his manuscriptG
That he who listens to the wordsW
May close his eyes and dream the birdsW
Are twittering on every handG
A language he can understandG
He journeyed on through life unknownM
Without one friend to call his ownM
He tired No kindly hand to pressX
The cooling touch of tendernessY
Upon his burning brow nor liftG
To his parched lips God's freest giftG
No sympathetic sob or sighA
Of trembling lips no sorrowing eyeA
Looked out through tears to see him dieA
And Fame her greenest laurels broughtG
To crown a head that heeded notG
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And this is Fame A thing indeedG
That only comes when least the needG
The wisest minds of every ageZ
The book of life from page to pageZ
Have searched in vain each lesson connedG
Will promise it the page beyondG
Until the last when dusk of nightG
Falls over it and reason's lightG
Is smothered by that unknown friendG
Who signs his nom de plume The EndG

James Whitcomb Riley



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