The Pencil Seller Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis

Rhyme Scheme: ABABCDCDEBEB FGFGHIHIJKJKLMLMGNGN OPOPQAQARBRBSTSTJUJV WMXMXIYIY RZRA2PB2PB2 JC2JC2JD2JD2EPEP TE2TE2NJNJF2G2F2G2ET ETBABAUXWXTH2TH2PAPA GJGJEI2EI2J2RJ2RVTVT AOAOK2L2SL2RLRLGPGP JL2JL2 TBTB

A pencil sir a penny won't you buyA
I'm cold and wet and tired a sorry plightB
Don't turn your back sir take one just to tryA
I haven't made a single sale to nightB
Oh thank you sir but take the pencil tooC
I'm not a beggar I'm a business manD
Pencils I deal in red and black and blueC
It's hard but still I do the best I canD
Most days I make enough to pay for breadE
A cup o' coffee stretching room at nightB
One needs so little to be warm and fedE
A hole to kennel in oh one's all rightB
-
Excuse me you're a painter are you notF
I saw you looking at that dealer's showG
The cro tes he has for sale a shabby lotF
What do I know of Art What do I knowG
Well look That David Strong so well displayedH
White Sorcery it's called all gossamerI
And pale moon magic and a dancing maidH
You like the little elfin face of herI
That's good but still the picture as a wholeJ
The values Pah He never painted worseK
Perhaps because his fire was lacking coalJ
His cupboard bare no money in his purseK
Perhaps they say he labored hard and longL
And see now in the harvest of his fameM
When round his pictures people gape and throngL
A scurvy dealer sells this on his nameM
A wretched rag wrung out of want and woeG
A soulless daub not David Strong a bitN
Unworthy of his art How should I knowG
How should I know I'm Strong I painted itN
-
There now I didn't mean to let that outO
It came in spite of me aye stare and stareP
You think I'm lying crazy drunk no doubtO
Think what you like it's neither here nor thereP
It's hard to tell so terrible a truthQ
To gain to glory yet be such as IA
It's true that picture's mine done in my youthQ
Up in a garret near the Paris skyA
The child's my daughter aye she posed for meR
That's why I come and sit here every nightB
The painting's bad but still oh still I seeR
Her little face all laughing in the lightB
So now you understand I live in fearS
Lest one like you should carry it awayT
A poor pot boiling thing but oh how dearS
Don't let them buy it pitying God I prayT
And hark ye sir sometimes my brain's awhirlJ
Some night I'll crash into that window paneU
And snatch my picture back my little girlJ
And run and runV
-
I'm talking wild againW
A crab can't run I'm crippled withered lameM
Palsied as good as dead all down one sideX
No warning had I when the evil cameM
It struck me down in all my strength and prideX
Triumph was mine I thrilled with perfect powerI
Honor was mine Fame's laurel touched my browY
Glory was mine within a little hourI
I was a god and what you find me nowY
-
My child that little laughing girl you seeR
She was my nurse for all ten weary yearsZ
Her joy her hope her youth she gave for meR
Her very smiles were masks to hide her tearsA2
And I my precious art so rich so rareP
Lost lost to me what could my heart but breakB2
Oh as I lay and wrestled with despairP
I would have killed myself but for her sakeB2
-
By luck I had some pictures I could sellJ
And so we fought the wolf back from the doorC2
She painted too aye wonderfully wellJ
We often dreamed of brighter days in storeC2
And then quite suddenly she seemed to failJ
I saw the shadows darken round her eyesD2
So tired she was so sorrowful so paleJ
And oh there came a day she could not riseD2
The doctor looked at her he shook his headE
And spoke of wine and grapes and Southern airP
If you can get her out of this he saidE
She'll have a fighting chance with proper careP
-
With proper care When he had gone awayT
I sat there trembling twitching dazed with griefE2
Under my old and ragged coat she layT
Our room was bare and cold beyond beliefE2
Maybe I thought I still can paint a bitN
Some lilies landscape anything at allJ
Alas My brush I could not steady itN
Down from my fumbling hand I let it fallJ
With proper care how could I give her thatF2
Half of me dead I crawled down to the streetG2
Cowering beside the wall I held my hatF2
And begged of every one I chanced to meetG2
I got some pennies bought her milk and breadE
And so I fought to keep the Doom awayT
And yet I saw with agony of dreadE
My dear one sinking sinking day by dayT
And then I was awakened in the nightB
Please take my hands I'm cold I heard her sighA
And soft she whispered as she held me tightB
Oh daddy we've been happy you and IA
I do not think she suffered any painU
She breathed so quietly but though I triedX
I could not warm her little hands againW
And so there in the icy dark she diedX
The dawn came groping in with fingers grayT
And touched me sitting silent as a stoneH2
I kissed those piteous lips as cold as clayT
I did not cry I did not even moanH2
At last I rose groped down the narrow stairP
An evil fog was oozing from the skyA
Half crazed I stumbled on I knew not whereP
Like phantoms were the folks that passed me byA
How long I wandered thus I do not knowG
But suddenly I halted stood stock stillJ
Beside a door that spilled a golden glowG
I saw a name my name upon a billJ
A Sale of Famous Pictures so it readE
A Notable Collection each a gemI2
Distinguished Works of Art by painters deadE
The folks were going in I followed themI2
I stood upon the outskirts of the crowdJ2
I only hoped that none might notice meR
Soon soon I heard them call my name aloudJ2
A 'David Strong' his Fete in BrittanyR
A brave big picture that the best I've doneV
It glowed and kindled half the hall awayT
With all its memories of sea and sunV
Of pipe and bowl of joyous work and playT
I saw the sardine nets blue as the skyA
I saw the nut brown fisher boats put outO
Five hundred pounds rapped out a voice near byA
Six hundred Seven Eight And then a shoutO
A thousand pounds Oh how I thrilled to hearK2
Oh how the bids went up by leaps by boundsL2
And then a silence then the auctioneerS
It's going Going Gone Three thousand poundsL2
Three thousand pounds A frenzy leapt in meR
That picture's mine I cried I'm David StrongL
I painted it this famished wretch you seeR
I did it I and sold it for a songL
And in a garret three small hours agoG
My daughter died for want of Christian careP
Look look at me Is it to mock my woeG
You pay three thousand for my picture thereP
-
O God I stumbled blindly from the hallJ
The city crashed on me the fiendish soundsL2
Of cruelty and strife but over allJ
Three thousand pounds I heard Three thousand poundsL2
-
There that's my story sir it isn't gayT
Tales of the Poor are never very brightB
You'll look for me next time you pass this wayT
I hope you'll find me sir good night good nightB

Robert Service



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