The Jackaw Of Rheims Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis
Rhyme Scheme: AABCDDDDDEE FFFAAEEGHAAIIEEE JE KKEELLLBMMNNDDOOMMP QQEEERRRSS FFFFSSSMMMEEEEEESST UUVVWWQQSSSSSEEEE DDDEEQEEQXXXS QEEE MMMEEQ UUDDDDQQQQQQMMMQQQEE MMQ E QQQQQQDDDThe Jackdaw sat on the Cardinal's chair | A |
Bishop and abbot and prior were there | A |
Many a monk and many a friar | B |
Many a knight and many a squire | C |
With a great many more of lesser degree | D |
In sooth a goodly company | D |
And they served the Lord Primate on bended knee | D |
Never I ween | D |
Was a prouder seen | D |
Read of in books or dreamt of in dreams | E |
Than the Cardinal Lord Archbishop of Rheims | E |
- | |
In and out | F |
Through the motley rout | F |
That little Jackdaw kept hopping about | F |
Here and there | A |
Like a dog in a fair | A |
Over comfits and cates | E |
And dishes and plates | E |
Cowl and cope and rochet and pall | G |
Mitre and crosier he hopp'd upon all | H |
With saucy air | A |
He perch'd on the chair | A |
Where in state the great Lord Cardinal sat | I |
In the great Lord Cardinal's great red hat | I |
And he peer'd in the face | E |
Of his Lordship's Grace | E |
With a satisfied look as if he would say | E |
'We two are the greatest folks here to day ' | - |
And the priests with awe | J |
As such freaks they saw | E |
Said 'The Devil must be in that little Jackdaw ' | - |
- | |
The feast was over the board was clear'd | K |
The flawns and the custards had all disappear'd | K |
And six little Singing boys dear little souls | E |
In nice clean faces and nice white stoles | E |
Came in order due | L |
Two by two | L |
Marching that grand refectory through | L |
A nice little boy held a golden ewer | B |
Emboss'd and fill'd with water as pure | M |
As any that flows between Rheims and Namur | M |
Which a nice little boy stood ready to catch | N |
In a fine golden hand basin made to match | N |
Two nice little boys rather more grown | D |
Carried lavender water and eau de Cologne | D |
And a nice little boy had a nice cake of soap | O |
Worthy of washing the hands of the Pope | O |
One little boy more | M |
A napkin bore | M |
Of the best white diaper fringed with pink | P |
And a Cardinal's Hat mark'd in 'permanent ink ' | - |
The great Lord Cardinal turns at the sight | Q |
Of these nice little boys dress'd all in white | Q |
From his finger he draws | E |
His costly turquoise | E |
And not thinking at all about little Jackdaws | E |
Deposits it straight | R |
By the side of his plate | R |
While the nice little boys on his Eminence wait | R |
Till when nobody's dreaming of any such thing | S |
That little Jackdaw hops off with the ring | S |
- | |
There's a cry and a shout | F |
And a deuce of a rout | F |
And nobody seems to know what they're about | F |
But the Monks have their pockets all turn'd inside out | F |
The Friars are kneeling | S |
And hunting and feeling | S |
The carpet the floor and the walls and the ceiling | S |
The Cardinal drew | M |
Off each plum colour'd shoe | M |
And left his red stockings exposed to the view | M |
He peeps and he feels | E |
In the toes and the heels | E |
They turn up the dishes they turn up the plates | E |
They take up the poker and poke out the grates | E |
They turn up the rugs | E |
They examine the mugs | E |
But no no such thing | S |
They can't find THE RING | S |
And the Abbott declared that 'when nobody twigg'd it | T |
Some rascal or other had popp'd in and prigg'd it ' | - |
- | |
The Cardinal rose with a dignified look | U |
He call'd for his candle his bell and his book | U |
In holy anger and pious grief | V |
He solemnly cursed that rascally thief | V |
He cursed him at board he cursed him in bed | W |
From the sole of his foot to the crown of his head | W |
He cursed him in sleeping that every night | Q |
He should dream of the devil and wake in a fright | Q |
He cursed him in eating he cursed him in drinking | S |
He cursed him in coughing in sneezing in winking | S |
He cursed him in sitting in standing in lying | S |
He cursed him in walking in riding in flying | S |
He cursed him in living he cursed him in dying | S |
Never was heard such a terrible curse | E |
But what gave rise | E |
To no little surprise | E |
Nobody seem'd one penny the worse | E |
- | |
The day was gone | D |
The night came on | D |
The Monks and the Friars they search'd till dawn | D |
When the Sacristan saw | E |
On crumpled claw | E |
Come limping a poor little lame Jackdaw | Q |
No longer gay | E |
His feathers all seem'd to be turn'd the wrong way | E |
His head was as bald as the palm of your hand | Q |
His eye so dim | X |
So wasted each limb | X |
That heedless of grammar they all cried 'THAT'S HIM | X |
That's the scamp that has done this scandalous thing | S |
That's the thief that has got my Lord Cardinal's Ring ' | - |
The poor little Jackdaw | Q |
When the Monks he saw | E |
Feebly gave vent to the ghost of a caw | E |
And turn'd his bald head as much as to say | E |
'Pray be so good as to walk this way ' | - |
Slower and slower | M |
He limp'd on before | M |
Till they came to the back of the belfry door | M |
Where the first thing they saw | E |
Midst the sticks and the straw | E |
Was the Ring in the nest of that little Jackdaw | Q |
- | |
Then the great Lord Cardinal call'd for his book | U |
And off that terrible curse he took | U |
The mute expression | D |
Served in lieu of confession | D |
And being thus coupled with full restitution | D |
The Jackdaw got plenary absolution | D |
When those words were heard | Q |
That poor little bird | Q |
Was so changed in a moment 'twas really absurd | Q |
He grew sleek and fat | Q |
In addition to that | Q |
A fresh crop of feathers came thick as a mat | Q |
His tail waggled more | M |
But no longer it wagg'd with an impudent air | M |
No longer he perch'd on the Cardinal's chair | M |
He hopp'd now about | Q |
With a gait devout | Q |
At Matins at Vespers he never was out | Q |
And so far from any more pilfering deeds | E |
He always seem'd telling the Confessor's beads | E |
If any one lied or if any one swore | M |
Or slumber'd in pray'r time and happen'd to snore | M |
That good Jackdaw | Q |
Would give a great 'Caw ' | - |
As much as to say 'Don't do so any more ' | - |
While many remark'd as his manners they saw | E |
That they 'never had known such a pious Jackdaw ' | - |
He long lived the pride | Q |
Of that country side | Q |
And at last in the odour of sanctity died | Q |
When as words were too faint | Q |
His merits to paint | Q |
The Conclave determined to make him a Saint | Q |
And on newly made Saints and Popes as you know | D |
It's the custom at Rome new names to bestow | D |
So they canonized him by the name of Jim Crow | D |
Richard Harris Barham
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