The Chimney-sweeper's Song Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis
Rhyme Scheme: ABCDEFGF HIJK KELEMNKN O MKPKAGQG O RMSSMOGO O GSOSKKKK O RKKKOSKS O EESETU U O| Hath Christmas furr'd your Chimneys | A |
| Or have the maides neglected | B |
| Doe Fire balls droppe from your Chimney's toppe | C |
| The Pidgin is respected | D |
| Looke up with feare and horror | E |
| O how my mistresse wonders | F |
| The streete doth crie the newes doth flie | G |
| The boyes they thinke it thunders | F |
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| Then up I rush with my pole and brush | H |
| I scowre the chimney's Jacket | I |
| I make it shine as bright as mine | J |
| When I have rub'd and rak'd it | K |
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| Take heed ten groates you'le forfeit | K |
| The Maior will not have under | E |
| In vain is dung so is your gun | L |
| When brickes doe flie asunder | E |
| Let not each faggot fright ye | M |
| When threepence will me call in | N |
| The Bishopps foote is not worse than soote | K |
| If ever it should fall in | N |
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| Up will I rush etc | O |
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| The sent the smoake ne're hurts me | M |
| The dust is never minded | K |
| Mine Eyes are glasse men sweare as I passe | P |
| Or else I had bin blinded | K |
| For in the midst of Chimneys | A |
| I laugh I sing I hollow | G |
| I chant my layes in Vulcan's praise | Q |
| As merry as the swallow | G |
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| Still up I rush etc | O |
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| With Engines and devices | R |
| I scale the proudest chimney | M |
| The Prince's throne to mine alone | S |
| Gives place the Starrs I climb ny | S |
| I scorne all men beneath me | M |
| While there I stand a scowring | O |
| All they below looke like a Crow | G |
| Or men on Paules a tow'ring | O |
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| Then downe I rush etc | O |
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| And as I downeward rumble | G |
| What thinke you is my lott then | S |
| A good neat's tongue in the inside hung | O |
| The maide hath it forgotten | S |
| If e're the wanton mingled | K |
| My inke with soote I wist not | K |
| Howere the neate and harmless cheate | K |
| Is worth a penny is't not | K |
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| Still doe I rush etc | O |
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| Then cloth'd in soote and ashes | R |
| I catch the maides that hast out | K |
| Whos'ere I meete with smutt I greete | K |
| And pounse their lipps and wastcote | K |
| But on the Sunday morning | O |
| I looke not like a widgin | S |
| Soe brave I stand with a point in my bande | K |
| Men ask if I be Pidgin | S |
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| Yet will I rush etc | O |
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| Mulsacke I dare encounter | E |
| For all his horne and feather | E |
| Ile lay him a crowne Ile roare him downe | S |
| I thinke heale ne'er come hether | E |
| The Boyes that climbe like Crickets | T |
| And steale my trade Ile strippe them | U |
| By priviledge I growne Chimney hy | - |
| Soone out of towne will whippe them | U |
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| Then will I rush etc | O |
William Strode
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