A Likeness Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis
Rhyme Scheme: AABABCBDDC EEFFGBHBEEEBBEEIIEEE JJ KKGGKBLLB MMKBKJBBJBJEEKNNEO OEEEEPPPKK| Some people hang portraits up | A |
| In a room where they dine or sup | A |
| And the wife clinks tea things under | B |
| And her cousin he stirs his cup | A |
| Asks Who was the lady I wonder | B |
| 'T is a daub John bought at a sale | C |
| Quoth the wife looks black as thunder | B |
| What a shade beneath her nose | D |
| Snuff taking I suppose | D |
| Adds the cousin while John's corns ail | C |
| - | |
| Or else there 's no wife in the case | E |
| But the portrait 's queen of the place | E |
| Alone mid the other spoils | F |
| Of youth masks gloves and foils | F |
| And pipe sticks rose cherry tree jasmine | G |
| And the long whip the tandem lasher | B |
| And the cast from a fist not alas mine | H |
| But my master's the Tipton Slasher | B |
| And the cards where pistol balls mark ace | E |
| And a satin shoe used for cigar case | E |
| And the chamois horns shot in the Chablais | E |
| And prints Rarey drumming on Cruiser | B |
| And Sayers our champion the bruiser | B |
| And the little edition of Rabelais | E |
| Where a friend with both hands in his pockets | E |
| May saunter up close to examine it | I |
| And remark a good deal of Jane Lamb in it | I |
| But the eyes are half out of their sockets | E |
| That hair 's not so bad where the gloss is | E |
| But they've made the girl's nose a proboscis | E |
| Jane Lamb that we danced with at Vichy | J |
| What is not she Jane Then who is she | J |
| - | |
| All that I own is a print | K |
| An etching a mezzotint | K |
| 'T is a study a fancy a fiction | G |
| Yet a fact take my conviction | G |
| Because it has more than a hint | K |
| Of a certain face I never | B |
| Saw elsewhere touch or trace of | L |
| In women I 've seen the face of | L |
| Just an etching and so far clever | B |
| - | |
| I keep my prints an imbroglio | M |
| Fifty in one portfolio | M |
| When somebody tries my claret | K |
| We turn round chairs to the fire | B |
| Chirp over days in a garret | K |
| Chuckle o'er increase of salary | J |
| Taste the good fruits of our leisure | B |
| Talk about pencil and lyre | B |
| And the National Portrait Gallery | J |
| Then I exhibit my treasure | B |
| After we 've turned over twenty | J |
| And the debt of wonder my crony owes | E |
| Is paid to my Marc Antonios | E |
| He stops me Festina lent | K |
| What's that sweet thing there the etching | N |
| How my waistcoat strings want stretching | N |
| How my cheeks grow red as tomatos | E |
| How my heart leaps But hearts after leaps ache | O |
| - | |
| By the by you must take for a keepsake | O |
| That other you praised of Volpato's | E |
| The fool would he try a flight further and say | E |
| He never saw never before to day | E |
| What was able to take his breath away | E |
| A face to lose youth for to occupy age | P |
| With the dream of meet death with why I'll not engage | P |
| But that half in a rapture and half in a rage | P |
| I should toss him the thing's self 'T is only a duplicate | K |
| A thing of no value Take it I supplicate | K |
Robert Browning
(1)
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