The Ballad Of The Ice-worm Cocktail Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis

Rhyme Scheme: AABBCCDEFFGH IICCJJKKEE LLCCMMEEEENNOO CCPNNNCC PNQQRRPPJJDDNNSSPPTT NNUUNNVVWWXYNNNNNNNN ZZ FFPPNNA2A2NNB2B2C2C2 NNCCD2D2NNNNTTD2D2NN E2E2CC VVF2F2NNCCTG2IINNNN CCVV

To Dawson Town came Percy Brown from London on the ThamesA
A pane of glass was in his eye and stockings on his stemsA
Upon the shoulder of his coat a leather pad he woreB
To rest his deadly rifle when it wasn't seeking goreB
The which it must have often been for Major Percy BrownC
According to his story was a hunter of renownC
Who in the Murrumbidgee wilds had stalked the kangarooD
And killed the cassowary on the plains of TimbuctooE
And now the Arctic fox he meant to follow to its lairF
And it was also his intent to beard the Artic hareF
Which facts concerning Major Brown I merely tell becauseG
I fain would have you know him for the Nimrod that he wasH
-
Now Skipper Grey and Deacon White were sitting in the shackI
And sampling of the whisky that pertained to Sheriff BlackI
Said Skipper Grey I want to say a word about this BrownC
The piker's sticking out his chest as if he owned the townC
Said Sheriff Black he has no lack of frigorated cheekJ
He called himself a Sourdough when he'd just been here a weekJ
Said Deacon White Methinks you're right and so I have a planK
By which I hope to prove to night the mettle of the manK
Just meet me where the hooch bird sings and though our ways be rudeE
We'll make a proper Sourdough of this Piccadilly dudeE
-
Within the Malamute Saloon were gathered all the gangL
The fun was fast and furious and the loud hooch bird sangL
In fact the night's hilarity had almost reached its crownC
When into its storm centre breezed the gallant Major BrownC
And at the apparation whith its glass eye and plus foursM
From fifty alcoholic throats responded fifty roarsM
With shouts of stark amazement and with whoops of sheer delightE
They surged around the stranger but the first was Deacon WhiteE
We welcome you he cried aloud to this the Great White LandE
The Artic Brotherhood is proud to grip you by the handE
Yea sportsman of the bull dog breed from trails of far awayN
To Yukoners this is indeed a memorable dayN
Our jubilation to express vocabularies failO
Boys hail the Great Cheechako And the boys responded HailO
-
And now continued Deacon White to blushing Major BrownC
Behold assembled the eelight and cream of Dawson TownC
And one ambition fills their hearts and makes their bosoms glowP
They want to make you honoured sir a bony feed SourdoughN
The same some say is one who's seen the Yukon ice go outN
But most profound authorities the definition doubtN
And to the genial notion of this meeting Major BrownC
A Sourdough is a guy who drinks an ice worm cocktail downC
-
By Gad responded Major Brown that's ripping don't you knowP
I've always felt I'd like to be a certified SourdoughN
And though I haven't any doubt your Winter's awf'ly niceQ
Mayfair I fear may miss me ere the break up of your iceQ
Yet pray excuse my ignorance of matters such as theseR
A cocktail I can understand but what's an ice worm pleaseR
Said Deacon White It is not strange that you should fail to knowP
Since ice worms are peculiar to the Mountain of Blue SnowP
Within the Polar rim it rears a solitary peakJ
And in the smoke of early Spring a spectacle uniqueJ
Like flame it leaps upon the sight and thrills you through and throughD
For though its cone is piercing white its base is blazing blueD
Yet all is clear as you draw near for coyley peering outN
Are hosts and hosts of tiny worms each indigo of snoutN
And as no nourishment they find to keep themselves aliveS
They masticate each other's tails till just the Tough surviveS
Yet on this stern and Spartan fare so rapidly they growP
That some attain six inches by the melting of the snowP
Then when the tundra glows to green and nigger heads appearT
They burrow down and are not seen until another yearT
-
A toughish yarn laughed Major Brown as well you may admitN
I'd like to see this little beast before I swallow itN
'Tis easy done said Deacon White Ho Barman haste and bringU
Us forth some pickled ice worms of the vintage of last SpringU
But sadly still was Barman Bill then sighed as one bereftN
There's been a run on cocktails Boss there ain't an ice worm leftN
Yet wait By gosh it seems to me that some of extra sizeV
Were picked and put away to show the scientific guysV
Then deeply in a drawer he sought and there he found a jarW
The which with due and proper pride he put upon the barW
And in it wreathed in queasy rings or rolled into a ballX
A score of grey and greasy things were drowned in alcoholY
Their bellies were a bilious blue their eyes a bulbous redN
Their back were grey and gross were they and hideous of headN
And when with gusto and a fork the barman speared one outN
It must have gone four inches from its tail tip to its snoutN
Cried Deacon White with deep delight Say isn't that a beautN
I think it is sniffed Major Brown a most disgustin' bruteN
Its very sight gives me the pip I'll bet my bally hatN
You're only spoofin' me old chap You'll never swallow thatN
The hell I won't said Deacon White Hey Bill that fellows fineZ
Fix up four ice worm cocktails and just put that wop in mineZ
-
So Barman Bill got busy and with sacerdotal airF
His art's supreme achievement he proceeded to prepareF
His silver cups like sickle moon went waving to and froP
And four celestial cocktails soon were shining in a rowP
And in the starry depths of each artistically piledN
A fat and juicy ice worm raised its mottled mug and smiledN
Then closer pressed the peering crown suspended was the funA2
As Skipper Grey in courteous way said Stranger please take oneA2
But with a gesture of disgust the Major shook his headN
You can't bluff me You'll never drink that gastly thing he saidN
You'll see all right said Deacon White and held his cocktail highB2
Till its ice worm seemed to wiggle and to wink a wicked eyeB2
Then Skipper Grey and Sheriff Black each lifted up a glassC2
While through the tense and quiet crown a tremor seemed to passC2
Drink Stranger drink boomed Deacon White proclaim you're of the bestN
A doughty Sourdough who has passed the Ice worm Cocktail TestN
And at these words with all eyes fixed on gaping Major BrownC
Like a libation to the gods each dashed his cocktail downC
The Major gasped with horror as the trio smacked their lipsD2
He twiddled at his eye glass with unsteady finger tipsD2
Into his starry cocktail with a look of woe he peeredN
And its ice worm to his thinking mosy incontinently leeredN
Yet on him were a hundred eyes though no one spoke aloudN
For hushed with expectation was the waiting watching crowdN
The Major's fumbling hand went forth the gang prepared to cheerT
The Major's falt'ring hand went back the mob prepared to jeerT
The Major gripped his gleaming glass and laid it to his lipsD2
And as despairfully he took some nauseated sipsD2
From out its coil of crapulence the ice worm raised its headN
Its muzzle was a murky blue its eyes a ruby redN
And then a roughneck bellowed fourth This stiff comes here and strutsE2
As if he bought the blasted North jest let him show his gutsE2
And with a roar the mob proclaimed Cheechako Major BrownC
Reveal that you're of Sourdough stuff and drink your cocktail downC
-
The Major took another look then quickly closed his eyesV
For even as he raised his glass he felt his gorge ariseV
Aye even though his sight was sealed in fancy he could seeF2
That grey and greasy thing that reared and sneered in mockeryF2
Yet round him ringed the callous crowd and how they seemed to gloatN
It must be done He swallowed hard The brute was at his throatN
He choked he gulped Thank God at last he'd got the horror downC
Then from the crowd went up a roar Hooray for Sourdough BrownC
With shouts they raised him shoulder high and gave a rousing cheerT
But though they praised him to the sky the Major did not hearG2
Amid their demonstrative glee delight he seemed to lackI
Indeed it almost seemed that he was keeping something backI
A clammy sweat was on his brow and pallid as a sheetN
I feel I must be going now he'd plaintively repeatN
Aye though with drinks and smokes galore they tempted him to stayN
With sudden bolt he gained the door and made his get awayN
-
And ere next night his story was the talk of Dawson TownC
But gone and reft of glory was the wrathful Major BrownC
For that ice worm so they told him of such formidable sizeV
Was a stick of stained spaghetti with two red ink spots for eyesV

Robert Service



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Mary Linda McBride: Before television arrived, our Dad loved to read to us kids the poetry of Robert Service.
I am sending two of the Robert Service poem collection books to brothers for Christmas this year.
 

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