Davideis: A Sacred Poem Of The Troubles Of David (excerpt) Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis
Rhyme Scheme: ABBCCDDEEFFGG HHIIJJKKLLMMNNOOPPQQ RRSSTTQQUR| BOOK I excerpt | A |
| I sing the man who Judah's sceptre bore | B |
| In that right hand which held the crook before | B |
| Who from best poet best of kings did grow | C |
| The two chief gifts Heav'n could on man bestow | C |
| Much danger first much toil did he sustain | D |
| Whilst Saul and Hell cross'd his strong fate in vain | D |
| Nor did his crown less painful work afford | E |
| Less exercise his patience or his sword | E |
| So long her conqueror fortunes spite pursued | F |
| Till with unwearied virtue he subdued | F |
| All homebred malice and all foreign boasts | G |
| Their strength was armies his the Lord of Hosts | G |
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| Thou who didst David's royal stem adorn | H |
| And gav'st him birth from whom thy self wast born | H |
| Who didst in triumph at death's court appear | I |
| And slew'st him with thy nails thy cross and spear | I |
| Whilst Hell's black tyrant trembled to behold | J |
| The glorious light he forfeited of old | J |
| Who Heav'ns glad burden now and justest pride | K |
| Sit'st high enthron'd next thy great Father's side | K |
| Where hallowed flames help to adorn that head | L |
| Which once the blushing thorns environed | L |
| Till crimson drops of precious blood hung down | M |
| Like rubies to enrich thine humble crown | M |
| Even thou my breast with such blest rage inspire | N |
| As mov'd the tuneful strings of David's lyre | N |
| Guide my bold steps with thine old travelling flame | O |
| In these untrodden paths to sacred fame | O |
| Lo with pure hands thy heav'enly fires to take | P |
| My well chang'd Muse I a chaste vestal make | P |
| From earth's vain joys and love's soft witchcraft free | Q |
| I consecrate my Magdalene to thee | Q |
| Lo this great work a temple to thy praise | R |
| On polish'd pillars of strong verse I raise | R |
| A temple where if thou vouchsafe to dwell | S |
| It Solomon's and Herod's shall excel | S |
| Too long the Muses land have heathen bin | T |
| Their gods too long were devils and virtues sin | T |
| But thou Eternal Word has call'd forth me | Q |
| Th' apostle to convert that world to thee | Q |
| T' unbind the charms that in slight fables lie | U |
| And teach that truth is purest poesy | R |
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Abraham Cowley
(1)
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