Epistle Ii: To A Lady (of The Characters Of Women ) Poem Rhyme Scheme

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NOTHING so true as what you once let fall	A
Most Women have no Characters at all	A
Matter too soft a lasting mark to bear	B
And best distinguish'd by black brown or fair	B
	-
How many pictures of one Nymph we view	C
All how unlike each other all how true	C
Arcadia's Countess here in ermin'd pride	D
Is there Pastora by a fountain side	D
Here Fannia leering on her own good man	E
And there a naked Leda with a Swan	F
Let then the Fair one beautifully cry	G
In Magdalen's loose hair and lifted eye	G
Or drest in smiles of sweet Cecilia shine	H
With simpering Angels Palms and Harps divine	H
Whether the Charmer sinner it or saint it	I
If Folly grow romantic I must paint it	I
	-
Come then the colours and the ground prepare	B
Dip in the Rainbow trick her off in Air	B
Choose a firm Cloud before it fall and in it	I
Catch ere she change the Cynthia of this minute	J
	-
Rufa whose eye quick glancing o'er the Park	K
Attracts each light gay meteor of a Spark	K
Agrees as ill with Rufa studying Locke	L
As Sappho's diamonds with her dirty smock	L
Or Sappho at her toilet's greasy task	M
With Sappho fragrant at an evening Masque	M
So morning Insects that in muck begun	N
Shine buzz and flyblow in the setting sun	N
	-
How soft is Silia fearful to offend	O
The Frail one's advocate the Weak one's friend	O
To her Calista prov'd her conduct nice	P
And good Simplicius asks of her advice	P
Sudden she storms she raves You tip the wink	M
But spare your censure Silia does not drink	M
All eyes may see from what the change arose	Q
All eyes may see a Pimple on her nose	Q
	-
Papillia wedded to her amorous spark	M
Sighs for the shades How charming is a Park	M
A Park is purchas'd but the Fair he sees	R
All bath'd in tears Oh odious odious Trees	R
	-
Ladies like variegated Tulips show	S
'Tis to their Changes half their charms we owe	S
Fine by defect and delicately weak	M
Their happy Spots the nice admirer take	M
'Twas thus Calypso once each heart alarm'd	T
Aw'd without Virtue without Beauty charmed	T
Her tongue bewitch'd as oddly as her Eyes	U
Less Wit than Mimic more a Wit than wise	U
Strange graces still and stranger flights she had	V
Was just not ugly and was just not mad	V
Yet ne'er so sure our passion to create	W
As when she touch'd the brink of all we hate	W
	-
Narcissa's nature tolerably mild	X
To make a wash would hardly stew a child	X
Has ev'n been prov'd to grant a Lover's pray'r	Y
And paid a Tradesman once to make him stare	B
Gave alms at Easter in a Christian trim	Z
And made a Widow happy for a whim	Z
Why then declare Good nature is her scorn	A2
When 'tis by that alone she can be borne	A2
Why pique all mortals yet affect a name	B2
A fool to Pleasure yet a slave to Fame	B2
Now deep in Taylor and the Book of Martyrs	C2
Now drinking citron with his Grace and Chartres	R
Now Conscience chills her and now Passion burns	D2
And Atheism and Religion take their turns	D2
A very Heathen in the carnal part	E2
Yet still a sad good Christian at her heart	E2
	-
See Sin in State majestically drunk	M
Proud as a Peeress prouder as a Punk	M
Chaste to her Husband frank to all beside	D
A teeming Mistress but a barren Bride	D
What then let Blood and Body bear the fault	F2
Her Head's untouch'd that noble Seat of Thought	G2
Such this day's doctrine in another fit	I
She sins with Poets thro' pure Love of Wit	I
What has not fir'd her bosom or her brain	H2
Caesar and Tallboy Charles and Charlemagne	H2
As Helluo late Dictator of the Feast	I2
The Nose of Hautgout and the Tip of Taste	J2
Critick'd your wine and analyz'd your meat	K2
Yet on plain Pudding deign'd at home to eat	K2
So Philomede lecturing all mankind	L2
On the soft Passion and the Taste refin'd	L2
Th' Address the Delicacy stoops at once	M2
And makes her hearty meal upon a Dunce	M2
	-
Flavia's a Wit has too much sense to Pray	N2
To Toast our wants and wishes is her way	N2
Nor asks of God but of her Stars to give	O2
The mighty blessing while we live to live	P2
Then all for Death that Opiate of the soul	Q2
Lucretia's dagger Rosamonda's bowl	Q2
Say what can cause such impotence of mind	L2
A spark too fickle or a Spouse too kind	L2
Wise Wretch with Pleasures too refin'd to please	M2
With too much Spirit to be e'er at ease	M2
With too much Quickness ever to be taught	G2
With too much Thinking to have common Thought	G2
You purchase Pain with all that Joy can give	O2
And die of nothing but a Rage to live	P2
	-
Turn then from Wits and look on Simo's Mate	W
No Ass so meek no Ass so obstinate	J
Or her that owns her Faults but never mends	M2
Because she's honest and the best of Friends	M2
Or her whose life the Church and Scandal share	B
For ever in a Passion or a Pray'r	Y
Or her who laughs at Hell but like her Grace	M2
Cries Ah how charming if there's no such place	M2
Or who in sweet vicissitude appears	M2
Of Mirth and Opium Ratafie and Tears	M2
The daily Anodyne and nightly Draught	R2
To kill those foes to Fair ones Time and Thought	G2
Woman and Fool are two hard things to hit	I
For true No meaning puzzles more than Wit	I
	-
But what are these to great Atossa's mind	L2
Scarce once herself by turns all Womankind	L2
Who with herself or others from her birth	S2
Finds all her life one warfare upon earth	S2
Shines in exposing Knaves and painting Fools	M2
Yet is whate'er she hates and ridicules	M2
No Thought advances but her Eddy Brain	H2
Whisks it about and down it goes again	T2
Full sixty years the World has been her Trade	L2
The wisest Fool much Time has ever made	L2
From loveless youth to unrespected age	U2
No passion gratify'd except her Rage	U2
So much the Fury still outran the Wit	L2
The Pleasure miss'd her and the Scandal hit	L2
Who breaks with her provokes Revenge from Hell	V2
But he's a bolder man who dares be well	V2
Her ev'ry turn with Violence pursu'd	L2
Nor more a storm her Hate than Gratitude	L2
To that each Passion turns or soon or late	L2
Love if it makes her yield must make her hate	L2
Superiors death and Equals what a curse	M2
But an Inferior not dependant worse	M2
Offend her and she knows not to forgive	O2
Oblige her and she'll hate you while you live	P2
But die and she'll adore you Then the Bust	L2
And Temple rise then fall again to dust	L2
Last night her Lord was all that's good and great	L2
A Knave this morning and his Will a Cheat	L2
Strange by the Means defeated of the Ends	M2
By Spirit robb'd of Pow'r by Warmth of Friends	M2
By Wealth of Followers without one distress	M2
Sick of herself thro' very selfishness	M2
Atossa curs'd with ev'ry granted pray'r	Y
Childless with all her Children wants an Heir	B
To Heirs unknown descends th' unguarded store	W2
Or wanders Heav'n directed to the Poor	X2
	-
Pictures like these dear Madam to design	H
Asks no firm hand and no unerring line	H
Some wandering touches some reflected light	L2
Some flying stroke alone can hit 'em right	L2
For how should equal Colours do the knack	M
Chameleons who can paint in white and black	M
	-
Yet Chloe sure was form'd without a spot	L2
Nature in her then err'd not but forgot	L2
With ev'ry pleasing ev'ry prudent part	L2
Say what can Chloe want She wants a Heart	L2
She speaks behaves and acts just as she ought	L2
But never never reach'd one gen'rous Thought	L2
Virtue she finds too painful an endeavour	Y2
Content to dwell in Decencies for ever	Y2
So very reasonable so unmov'd	L2
As never yet to love or to be lov'd	L2
She while her Lover pants upon her breast	L2
Can mark the figures on an Indian chest	L2
And when she sees her Friend in deep despair	B
Observes how much a Chintz exceeds Mohair	B
Forbid it Heav'n a Favour or a Debt	L2
She e'er should cancel but she may forget	L2
Safe is your Secret still in Chloe's ear	Z2
But none of Chloe's shall you ever hear	Z2
Of all her Dears she never slander'd one	N
But cares not if a thousand are undone	N
Would Chloe know if you're alive or dead	L2
She bids her Footman put it in her head	L2
Chloe is prudent Would you too be wise	M2
Then never break your heart when Chloe dies	M2
	-
One certain Portrait may I grant b	A3

Alexander Pope

Epistle Ii: To A Lady (of The Characters Of Women ) Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis

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