Apollo Belvedere Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis
Rhyme Scheme: AABBCC DDCCCC EEFFCC GGHHCC IIJJCC KKLLCC| A sitttin' on a cracker box an' spittin' in the stove | A |
| I took a sudden notion that I'd kindo' like to rove | A |
| An' so I bought a ticket jest as easy as could be | B |
| From Pumpkinville in Idaho to Rome in Italy | B |
| An' found myself in seven days of mostly atmosphere | C |
| A starin' at a statoo called Appoller Belvydeer | C |
| - | |
| Now I'm a rum soaked sinner an' religion ain't my plan | D |
| Yet I was flabbergasted by that gol darned Vattyican | D |
| An' when I seed Saint Peter's dome all I could do was swear | C |
| The which I reckon after all may be a form o' prayer | C |
| Abut as I sought amid them sights bewildered to steer | C |
| The king pin was the one they called Appoller Belvydeer | C |
| - | |
| Say I ain't got no culture an' I don't know any art | E |
| But that there statoo got me standin' in its room apart | E |
| In an alcove draped wi' velvet lookin' everlastin' bright | F |
| Like the vision o' a poet full o' beauty grace an' light | F |
| An' though I know them kind o' words sound sissy in the ear | C |
| It's jest how I was struck by that Appoller Belvydeer | C |
| - | |
| I've gazed at them depictions in the glossy magazines | G |
| Uv modern Art an' darned if I can make out what it means | G |
| Will any jerk to day outstand a thousand years of test | H |
| Why them old Pagans make us look like pikers at the best | H |
| An' maybe too their minds was jest as luminous and clear | C |
| As that immortal statoo o' Appoller Belvydeer | C |
| - | |
| An' all yer march o' progress an' machinery as' such | I |
| I wonder if when all is said they add up to so much | I |
| An' were not these old fellers in their sweet an' simple way | J |
| Serener souled an' happier than we poor mugs to day | J |
| They have us licked I thought an' stood wi' mingled gloom an' cheer | C |
| Before that starry statoo o' Appoller Belvydeer | C |
| - | |
| So I'll go back to Pumpkinville an' to my humble home | K |
| An' dream o' all the sights I saw in everlastin' Rome | K |
| But I will never speak a word o' that enchanted land | L |
| That taks you bang into the Past folks wouldn't understand | L |
| An' midmost in my memories I'll cherish close an' dear | C |
| That bit o' frozen music that Appoller Belvydeer | C |
Robert William Service
(1)
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