Five-per-cent Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis
Rhyme Scheme: AABBCCDDEEFF GGHHIIJKBBLL GGEEFFMMNNOPBecause I have ten thousand pounds I sit upon my stern | A |
And leave my living tranquilly for other folks to earn | A |
For in some procreative way that isn't very clear | B |
Ten thousand pounds will breed they say five hundred every year | B |
So as I have a healthy hate of economic strife | C |
I mean to stand aloof from it the balance of my life | C |
And yet with sympathy I see the grimy son of toil | D |
And heartly congratulate the tiller of the soil | D |
I like the miner in the mine the sailor on the sea | E |
Because up to five hundred pounds they sail and mine for me | E |
For me their toil is taxed unto that annual extent | F |
According to the holy shibboleth of Five per Cent | F |
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So get ten thousand pounds my friend in any way you can | G |
And leave your future welfare to the noble Working Man | G |
He'll buy you suits of Harris tweed an Airedale and a car | H |
Your golf clubs and your morning Times your whisky and cigar | H |
He'll cosily install you in a cottage by a stream | I |
With every modern comfort and a garden that's a dream | I |
Or if your tastes be urban he'll provide you with a flat | J |
Secluded from the clamour of the proletariat | K |
With pictures music easy chairs a table of good cheer | B |
A chap can manage nicely on five hundred pounds a year | B |
And though around you painful signs of industry you view | L |
Why should you work when you can make your money work for you | L |
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So I'll get down upon my knees and bless the Working Man | G |
Who offers me a life of ease through all my mortal span | G |
Whose loins are lean to make me fat who slaves to keep me free | E |
Who dies before his prime to let me round the century | E |
Whose wife and children toil in urn until their strength is spent | F |
That I may live in idleness upon my five per cent | F |
And if at times they curse me why should I feel any blame | M |
For in my place I know that they would do the very same | M |
Aye though hey hoist a flag that's red on Sunday afternoon | N |
Just offer them ten thousand pounds and see them change their tune | N |
So I'll enjoy my dividends and live my life with zest | O |
And bless the mighty men who first invented Interest | P |
Robert William Service
(1)
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