A Black Job Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis
Rhyme Scheme: AB BABA BCBBCCDCDCD EFEFGGFHHFIJKLLLK FFBMMBBBBBNBNBBBFFOO BBBO BABBBAABPPPBCPCPQQAF FA PPPBBPPPBRRB BPBPBBSSFBBF TUTUVVPPPP AFAFBBBBBBUUUUDDBBBB WWXX AAFBBF AAAAFQQF YYAAABABBAAB BVVBFFFFAAFF BAABBBBB AABQQBBZZBAPAAP FAFAPFFPBBAPPAP QQA2A2APPAB2B2B2A AAAAAAOAAO| No doubt the pleasure is as great | A |
| Of being cheated as to cheat HUDIBRAS | B |
| - | |
| - | |
| The history of human kind to trace | B |
| Since Eve the first of dupes our doom unriddled | A |
| A certain portion of the human race | B |
| Has certainly a taste for being diddled | A |
| - | |
| Witness the famous Mississippi dreams | B |
| A rage that time seems only to redouble | C |
| The Banks Joint Stocks and all the flimsy schemes | B |
| For rolling in Pactolian streams | B |
| That cost our modern rogues so little trouble | C |
| No matter what to pasture cows on stubble | C |
| To twist sea sand into a solid rope | D |
| To make French bricks and fancy bread of rubble | C |
| Or light with gas the whole celestial cope | D |
| Only propose to blow a bubble | C |
| And Lord what hundreds will subscribe for soap | D |
| - | |
| Soap it reminds me of a little tale | E |
| Tho' not a pig's the hawbuck's glory | F |
| When rustic games and merriment prevail | E |
| But here's my story | F |
| Once on a time no matter when | G |
| A knot of very charitable men | G |
| Set up a Philanthropical Society | F |
| Professing on a certain plan | H |
| To benefit the race of man | H |
| And in particular that dark variety | F |
| Which some suppose inferior as in vermin | I |
| The sable is to ermine | J |
| As smut to flour as coal to alabaster | K |
| As crows to swans as soot to driven snow | L |
| As blacking or as ink to milk below | L |
| Or yet a better simile to show | L |
| As ragman's dolls to images in plaster | K |
| - | |
| However as is usual in our city | F |
| They had a sort of managing Committee | F |
| A board of grave responsible Directors | B |
| A Secretary good at pen and ink | M |
| A Treasurer of course to keep the chink | M |
| And quite an army of Collectors | B |
| Not merely male but female duns | B |
| Young old and middle aged of all degrees | B |
| With many of those persevering ones | B |
| Who mite by mite would beg a cheese | B |
| And what might be their aim | N |
| To rescue Afric's sable sons from fetters | B |
| To save their bodies from the burning shame | N |
| Of branding with hot letters | B |
| Their shoulders from the cowhide's bloody strokes | B |
| Their necks from iron yokes | B |
| To end or mitigate the ills of slavery | F |
| The Planter's avarice the Driver's knavery | F |
| To school the heathen Negroes and enlighten 'em | O |
| To polish up and brighten 'em | O |
| And make them worthy of eternal bliss | B |
| Why no the simple end and aim was this | B |
| Reading a well known proverb much amiss | B |
| To wash and whiten 'em | O |
| - | |
| They look'd so ugly in their sable hides | B |
| So dark so dingy like a grubby lot | A |
| Of sooty sweeps or colliers and besides | B |
| However the poor elves | B |
| Might wash themselves | B |
| Nobody knew if they were clean or not | A |
| On Nature's fairness they were quite a blot | A |
| Not to forget more serious complaints | B |
| That even while they join'd in pious hymn | P |
| So black they were and grim | P |
| In face and limb | P |
| They look'd like Devils tho' they sang like Saints | B |
| The thing was undeniable | C |
| They wanted washing not that slight ablution | P |
| To which the skin of the White Man is liable | C |
| Merely removing transient pollution | P |
| But good hard honest energetic rubbing | Q |
| And scrubbing | Q |
| Sousing each sooty frame from heels to head | A |
| With stiff strong saponaceous lather | F |
| And pails of water hottish rather | F |
| But not so boiling as to turn 'em red | A |
| - | |
| So spoke the philanthropic man | P |
| Who laid and hatch'd and nursed the plan | P |
| And oh to view its glorious consummation | P |
| The brooms and mops | B |
| The tubs and slops | B |
| The baths and brushes in full operation | P |
| To see each Crow or Jim or John | P |
| Go in a raven and come out a swan | P |
| While fair as Cavendishes Vanes and Russels | B |
| Black Venus rises from the soapy surge | R |
| And all the little Niggerlings emerge | R |
| As lily white as mussels | B |
| - | |
| Sweet was the vision but alas | B |
| However in prospectus bright and sunny | P |
| To bring such visionary scenes to pass | B |
| One thing was requisite and that was money | P |
| Money that pays the laundress and her bills | B |
| For socks and collars shirts and frills | B |
| Cravats and kerchiefs money without which | S |
| The negroes must remain as dark as pitch | S |
| A thing to make all Christians sad and shivery | F |
| To think of millions of immortal souls | B |
| Dwelling in bodies black as coals | B |
| And living so to speak in Satan's livery | F |
| - | |
| Money the root of evil dross and stuff | T |
| But oh how happy ought the rich to feel | U |
| Whose means enable them to give enough | T |
| To blanch an African from head to heel | U |
| How blessed yea thrice blessed to subscribe | V |
| Enough to scour a tribe | V |
| While he whose fortune was at best a brittle one | P |
| Although he gave but pence how sweet to know | P |
| He helped to bleach a Hottentot's great toe | P |
| Or little one | P |
| - | |
| Moved by this logic or appall'd | A |
| To persons of a certain turn so proper | F |
| The money came when call'd | A |
| In silver gold and copper | F |
| Presents from Friends to blacks or foes to whites | B |
| Trifles and offerings and widows' mites | B |
| Plump legacies and yearly benefactions | B |
| With other gifts | B |
| And charitable lifts | B |
| Printed in lists and quarterly transactions | B |
| As thus Elisha Brettel | U |
| An iron kettle | U |
| The Dowager Lady Scannel | U |
| A piece of flannel | U |
| Rebecca Pope | D |
| A bar of soap | D |
| The Misses Howels | B |
| Half a dozen towels | B |
| The Master Rush's | B |
| Two scrubbing brushes | B |
| Mr T Groom | W |
| A stable broom | W |
| And Mrs Grubb | X |
| A tub | X |
| - | |
| Great were the sums collected | A |
| And great results in consequence expected | A |
| But somehow in the teeth of all endeavor | F |
| According to reports | B |
| At yearly courts | B |
| The blacks confound them were as black as ever | F |
| - | |
| Yes spite of all the water sous'd aloft | A |
| Soap plain and mottled hard and soft | A |
| Soda and pearlash huckaback and sand | A |
| Brooms brushes palm of hand | A |
| And scourers in the office strong and clever | F |
| In spite of all the tubbing rubbing scrubbing | Q |
| The routing and the grubbing | Q |
| The blacks confound them were as black as ever | F |
| - | |
| In fact in his perennial speech | Y |
| The Chairman own'd the niggers did not bleach | Y |
| As he had hoped | A |
| From being washed and soaped | A |
| A circumstance he named with grief and pity | A |
| But still he had the happiness to say | B |
| For self and the Committee | A |
| By persevering in the present way | B |
| And scrubbing at the Blacks from day to day | B |
| Although he could not promise perfect white | A |
| From certain symptoms that had come to light | A |
| He hoped in time to get them gray | B |
| - | |
| Lull'd by this vague assurance | B |
| The friends and patrons of the sable tribe | V |
| Continued to subscribe | V |
| And waited waited on with much endurance | B |
| Many a frugal sister thrifty daughter | F |
| Many a stinted widow pinching mother | F |
| With income by the tax made somewhat shorter | F |
| Still paid implicitly her crown per quarter | F |
| Only to hear as ev'ry year came round | A |
| That Mr Treasurer had spent her pound | A |
| And as she loved her sable brother | F |
| That Mr Treasurer must have another | F |
| - | |
| But spite of pounds or guineas | B |
| Instead of giving any hint | A |
| Of turning to a neutral tint | A |
| The plaguy Negroes and their piccaninnies | B |
| Were still the color of the bird that caws | B |
| Only some very aged souls | B |
| Showing a little gray upon their polls | B |
| Like daws | B |
| - | |
| However nothing clashed | A |
| By such repeated failures or abashed | A |
| The Court still met the Chairman and Directors | B |
| The Secretary good at pen and ink | Q |
| The worthy Treasurer who kept the chink | Q |
| And all the cash Collectors | B |
| With hundreds of that class so kindly credulous | B |
| Without whose help no charlatan alive | Z |
| Or Bubble Company could hope to thrive | Z |
| Or busy Chevalier however sedulous | B |
| Those good and easy innocents in fact | A |
| Who willingly receiving chaff for corn | P |
| As pointed out by Butler's tact | A |
| Still find a secret pleasure in the act | A |
| Of being pluck'd and shorn | P |
| - | |
| However in long hundreds there they were | F |
| Thronging the hot and close and dusty court | A |
| To hear once more addresses from the Chair | F |
| And regular Report | A |
| Alas concluding in the usual strain | P |
| That what with everlasting wear and tear | F |
| The scrubbing brushes hadn't got a hair | F |
| The brooms mere stumps would never serve again | P |
| The soap was gone the flannels all in shreds | B |
| The towels worn to threads | B |
| The tubs and pails too shattered to be mended | A |
| And what was added with a deal of pain | P |
| But as accounts correctly would explain | P |
| Tho' thirty thousand pounds had been expended | A |
| The Blackamoors had still been wash'd in vain | P |
| - | |
| In fact the Negroes were as black as ink | Q |
| Yet still as the Committee dared to think | Q |
| And hoped the proposition was not rash | A2 |
| A rather free expenditure of cash | A2 |
| But ere the prospect could be made more sunny | A |
| Up jump'd a little lemon colored man | P |
| And with an eager stammer thus began | P |
| In angry earnest though it sounded funny | A |
| What More subscriptions No no no not I | B2 |
| You have had time time time enough to try | B2 |
| They WON'T come white then why why why why | B2 |
| More money | A |
| - | |
| Why said the Chairman with an accent bland | A |
| And gentle waving of his dexter hand | A |
| Why must we have more dross and dirt and dust | A |
| More filthy lucre in a word more gold | A |
| The why sir very easily is told | A |
| Because Humanity declares we must | A |
| We've scrubb'd the negroes till we've nearly killed 'em | O |
| And finding that we cannot wash them white | A |
| But still their nigritude offends the sight | A |
| We mean to gild 'em | O |
Thomas Hood
(1)
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