His Apologies Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis
Rhyme Scheme: AABCBB DDBB EEFF FFGG HHBB IIJJ KKLL| Master this is Thy Servant He is rising eight weeks old | A |
| He is mainly Head and Tummy His legs are uncontrolled | A |
| But Thou hast forgiven his ugliness and settled him on Thy knee | B |
| Art Thou content with Thy Servant He is | C |
| very | B |
| comfy with Thee | B |
| - | |
| Master behold a Sinner He hath committed a wrong | D |
| He hath defiled Thy Premises through being kept in too long | D |
| Wherefore his nose has been rubbed in the dirt and his self respect has been bruis d | B |
| Master pardon Thy Sinner and see he is properly loos d | B |
| - | |
| Master again Thy Sinner This that was once Thy Shoe | E |
| He hath found and taken and carried aside as fitting matter to chew | E |
| Now there is neither blacking nor tongue and the Housemaid has us in tow | F |
| Master remember Thy Servant is young and tell her to let him go | F |
| - | |
| Master extol Thy Servant He hath met a most Worthy Foe | F |
| There has been fighting all over the Shop and into the Shop also | F |
| Till cruel umbrellas parted the strife or I might have been choking him yet | G |
| But Thy Servant has had the Time of his Life and now shall we call on the vet | G |
| - | |
| Master behold Thy Servant Strange children came to play | H |
| And because they fought to caress him Thy Servant wentedst away | H |
| But now that the Little Beasts have gone he has returned to see | B |
| Brushed with his Sunday collar on what they left over from tea | B |
| - | |
| Master pity Thy Servant He is deaf and three parts blind | I |
| He cannot catch Thy Commandments He cannot read Thy Mind | I |
| Oh leave him not in his loneliness nor make him that kitten s scorn | J |
| He hath had none other God than Thee since the year that he was born | J |
| - | |
| Lord look down on Thy Servant Bad things have come to pass | K |
| There is no heat in the midday sun nor health in the wayside grass | K |
| His bones are full of an old disease his torments run and increase | L |
| Lord make haste with Thy Lightnings and grant him a quick release | L |
Rudyard Kipling
(1)
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