Stamp Collector Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis
Rhyme Scheme: ABAAAA CDCDEE FGFGHH IJIJKK LMLMMM NONOAA APAPHH CACAQRQR| My worldly wealth I hoard in albums three | A |
| My life collection of rare postage stamps | B |
| My room is cold and bare as you can see | A |
| My coat is old and shabby as a tramp's | A |
| Yet more to me than balances in banks | A |
| My albums three are worth a million francs | A |
| - | |
| I keep them in that box beside my bed | C |
| For who would dream such treasures it could hold | D |
| But every day I take them out and spread | C |
| Each page to gloat like miser o'er his gold | D |
| Dearer to me than could be child or wife | E |
| I would defend them with my very life | E |
| - | |
| They are my very life for every night | F |
| over my catalogues I pore and pore | G |
| I recognize rare items with delight | F |
| Nothing I read but philatelic lore | G |
| And when some specimen of choice I buy | H |
| In all the world there's none more glad than I | H |
| - | |
| Behold my gem my British penny black | I |
| To pay its price I starved myself a year | J |
| And many a night my dinner I would lack | I |
| But when I bought it oh what radiant cheer | J |
| Hitler made war that day I did not care | K |
| So long as my collection he would spare | K |
| - | |
| Look my triangular Cape of Good Hope | L |
| To purchase it I had to sell my car | M |
| Now in my pocket for some sous I grope | L |
| To pay my omnibus when home is far | M |
| And I am cold and hungry and footsore | M |
| In haste to add some beauty to my store | M |
| - | |
| This very day ah what a joy was mine | N |
| When in a dingy dealer's shop I found | O |
| This franc vermillion eighteen forty nine | N |
| How painfully my heart began to pound | O |
| It's weak they say I paid the modest price | A |
| And tremblingly I vanished in a trice | A |
| - | |
| But oh my dream is that some day of days | A |
| I might discover a Mauritius blue | P |
| poking among the stamp bins of the quais | A |
| Who knows They say there are but two | P |
| Yet if a third one I should spy | H |
| I think God help me I should faint and die | H |
| - | |
| Poor Monsieur Pns he's cold and dead | C |
| One of those stamp collecting cranks | A |
| His garret held no crust of bread | C |
| But albums worth a million francs | A |
| on them his income he would spend | Q |
| By philatelic frenzy driven | R |
| What did it profit in the end | Q |
| You can't take stamps to Heaven | R |
Robert Service
(2)
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Stamp Collector is a poem by Robert Service. This page includes the poem text, poet information, related topics, comments, and similar poems.
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