This Man Jones Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis
Rhyme Scheme: AABBCCBB DDEEFFFF BBGGHHII JJKLMMBB FFFFEEEE FFMMEEJJ NNAAOONN EEBBEEFF| This man Jones was what you'd call | A |
| A feller 'at had no sand at all | A |
| Kind o' consumpted and undersize | B |
| And sailor complected with big sad eyes | B |
| And a kind of a sort of a hang dog style | C |
| And a sneakin' sort of a half way smile | C |
| 'At kind o' give him away to us | B |
| As a preacher maybe er somepin' wuss | B |
| - | |
| Didn't take with the gang well no | D |
| But still we managed to use him though | D |
| Coddin' the gilly along the rout' | E |
| And drivin' the stakes 'at he pulled out | E |
| Far I was one of the bosses then | F |
| And of course stood in with the canvasmen | F |
| And the way we put up jobs you know | F |
| On this man Jones jes' beat the show | F |
| - | |
| Ust to rattle him scandalous | B |
| And keep the feller a dodgin' us | B |
| And a shyin' round half skeered to death | G |
| And afeerd to whimper above his breath | G |
| Give him a cussin' and then a kick | H |
| And then a kind of a back hand lick | H |
| Jes' far the fun of seem' him climb | I |
| Around with a head on most the time | I |
| - | |
| But what was the curioust thing to me | J |
| Was along o' the party let me see | J |
| Who was our Lion Queen last year | K |
| Mamzelle Zanty or De La Pierre | L |
| Well no matter a stunnin' mash | M |
| With a red ripe lip and a long eye lash | M |
| And a figger sich as the angels owns | B |
| And one too many far this man Jones | B |
| - | |
| He'd allus wake in the afternoon | F |
| As the band waltzed in on the lion tune | F |
| And there from the time 'at she'd go in | F |
| Till she'd back out of the cage agin | F |
| He'd stand shaky and limber kneed | E |
| 'Specially when she come to feed | E |
| The beasts raw meat with her naked hand | E |
| And all that business you understand | E |
| - | |
| And it was resky in that den | F |
| Far I think she juggled three cubs then | F |
| And a big green lion 'at used to smash | M |
| Collar bones far old Frank Nash | M |
| And I reckon now she hain't fergot | E |
| The afternoon old Nero sot | E |
| His paws on her but as far me | J |
| It's a sort of a mixed up mystery | J |
| - | |
| Kind o' remember an awful roar | N |
| And see her back far the bolted door | N |
| See the cage rock heerd her call | A |
| God have mercy and that was all | A |
| Far they ain't no livin' man can tell | O |
| What it's like when a thousand yell | O |
| In female tones and a thousand more | N |
| Howl in bass till their throats is sore | N |
| - | |
| But the keeper said 'at dragged her out | E |
| They heerd some feller laugh and shout | E |
| Save her Quick I've got the cuss | B |
| And yit she waked and smiled on us | B |
| And we daren't flinch far the doctor said | E |
| Seein' as this man Jones was dead | E |
| Better to jes' not let her know | F |
| Nothin' o' that far a week er so | F |
James Whitcomb Riley
(1)
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