The Vineyard Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis

Rhyme Scheme: AABB CCDD EEFF GGHI JJAA KLKL

At the eleventh hour he cameA
But his wages were the sameA
As ours who all day long had trodB
The wine press of the Wrath of GodB
-
When he shouldered through the linesC
Of our cropped and mangled vinesC
His unjaded eye could scanD
How each hour had marked its manD
-
Children of the morning tideE
With the hosts of noon diedE
And our noon contingents layF
Dead with twilight's spent arrayF
-
Since his back had felt no loadG
Virtue still in him abodeG
So he swiftly made his ownH
Those last spoils we had not wonI
-
We went home delivered thenceJ
Grudging him no recompenseJ
Till he portioned praise of blameA
To our works before he cameA
-
Till he showed us for our goodK
Deaf to mirth and blind to scornL
How we might have best withstoodK
Burdens that he had not bornL

Rudyard Kipling



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