King Whiskey Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis
Rhyme Scheme: ABABCDEF GHGHHIH JKJKLMLM NONOPQP ORSRTUTU VWVXYAYA ZA2ZA2ABAB| King Whishey's father down in Hell | A |
| He rubbed his hands with glee | B |
| 'My son on earth is doing well | A |
| Extremely well ' said he | B |
| 'Pile up the logs upon the blaze | C |
| And let the furnace roar | D |
| Another batch of Whiskey's slaves | E |
| Is hammering at the door ' | F |
| - | |
| The flames shot up a brilliant red | G |
| The grid was white with heat | H |
| A basting pot of boiling lead | G |
| Was placed on every seat | H |
| 'Ha ha ' said Satan 'this is neat | H |
| We have no cause to fear | I |
| That they'll complain they did not meet | H |
| A warm reception here ' | - |
| - | |
| King Whiskey sat upon his throne | J |
| His courtiers standing round | K |
| All meek subservient in tone | J |
| They bowed them to the ground | K |
| In tribute then they handed up | L |
| Their stores of golden wealth | M |
| And from the reeking poison cup | L |
| They drank King Whiskey's health | M |
| - | |
| And out beyond the palace gates | N |
| The wives and mothers stand | O |
| And breadless loudly curse the fates | N |
| That whiskey rules the land | O |
| The courtiers dimly hear the cry | P |
| But Whiskey dulls their ears | Q |
| 'Fill up let revelry run high | P |
| We'll drown these childish fears ' | - |
| - | |
| And men there are in Whiskey's land | O |
| Complaining times are bad | R |
| And money getting scarcer and | S |
| But little to be had | R |
| And yet however bad is trade | T |
| And things however flat | U |
| King Whiskey's tribute must be paid | T |
| They can't go short of that | U |
| - | |
| King Whiskey's courtiers soon grow old | V |
| And tribute's falling short | W |
| The strength is gone the blood is cold | V |
| The once clear mind distraught | X |
| And demons imps and grinning apes | Y |
| And glaring reptiles yell | A |
| And loathsome forms and fearsome shapes | Y |
| All point the road to Hell | A |
| - | |
| But Whiskey's court is bright and gay | Z |
| Nor do the ranks grow thin | A2 |
| For as the old are borne away | Z |
| The younger ones come in | A2 |
| King Whiskey's father down in Hell | A |
| He rubs his hands with glee | B |
| 'My son on earth is doing well | A |
| Extremely well ' says he | B |
William Thomas Goodge
(1)
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