The Dunciad: Book Iii Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis
Rhyme Scheme: AABBBCDDEEFF AAGGHHIIJJKKBBAALLMM BN OOIIFFPP QQIRAABBAASSTTUVAABB AAUU WWXXAAPPYYZZA2A2BBBB A2A2B2B2C2C2FFBBIIC2 C2D2D2 IIAAE2F2C2C2F2F2AA AAC2C2G2H2AAI2I2 LLUVC2C2AABBAAAAC2C2 C2C2F2F2J2J2NNF2E2K2 BL2L2M2M2C2C2FFC2C2N 2O2BB C2C2AAP2P2BBI2I2IIII AAAAZR AAAAAAQ2Q2AAR2R2CCC2 C2S2S2UUI2I2C2C2BBC2 C2AAFFC2C2C2C2AAA BBRT2AAAAC2C2ZIU2U2B B J2J2C2C2C2C2C2C2A AAAAC2C2AARRC2C2V2V2 ZZAAH2H2C2C2 J2J2XXAAC2C2C2C2C2C2 W2PRZC2C2AAJ2W2LLAAA ALLI2I2IIAAX2X2RRZZA A Y2Y2C2C2P2P2C2C2AABB C2C2AA IILLAAC2C2| But in her Temple's last recess inclos'd | A |
| On Dulness' lap th' Anointed head repos'd | A |
| Him close she curtains round with Vapours blue | B |
| And soft besprinkles with Cimmerian dew | B |
| Then raptures high the seat of Sense o'erflow | B |
| Which only heads refin'd from Reason know | C |
| Hence from the straw where Bedlam's Prophet nods | D |
| He hears loud Oracles and talks with Gods | D |
| Hence the Fool's Paradise the Statesman's Scheme | E |
| The air built Castle and the golden Dream | E |
| The Maid's romantic wish the Chemist's flame | F |
| And Poet's vision of eternal Fame | F |
| - | |
| And now on Fancy's easy wing convey'd | A |
| The King descending views Elysian Shade | A |
| A slip shod Sibyl led his steps along | G |
| In lofty madness meditating song | G |
| Her tresses staring from Poetic dreams | H |
| And never wash'd but in Castalia's streams | H |
| Taylor their better Charon lends an oar | I |
| Once swan of Thames tho' now he sings no more | I |
| Benlowes propitious still to blockheads bows | J |
| And Shadwell nods the Poppy on his brows | J |
| Here in a dusky vale where Lethe rolls | K |
| Old Bavius sits to dip poetic souls | K |
| And blunt the sense and fit it for a skull | B |
| Of solid proof impenetrably dull | B |
| Instant when dipt away they wing their flight | A |
| Where Brown and Mears unbar the gates of Light | A |
| Demand new bodies and in Calf's array | L |
| Rush to the world impatient for the day | L |
| Millions and millions on these banks he views | M |
| Thick as the stars of night or morning dews | M |
| As thick as bees o'er vernal blossoms fly | B |
| As thick as eggs at Ward in Pillory | N |
| - | |
| Wond'ring he gaz'd When lo a Sage appears | O |
| By his broad shoulders known and length of ears | O |
| Known by the band and suit which Settle wore | I |
| His only suit for twice three years before | I |
| All as the vest appear'd the wearer's frame | F |
| Old in new state another yet the same | F |
| Bland and familiar as in life begun | P |
| Thus the great Father to the greater Son | P |
| - | |
| Oh born to see what none can see awake | Q |
| Behold the wonders of th' oblivious Lake | Q |
| Thou yet unborn hast touch'd this sacred shore | I |
| The hand of Bavius drench'd thee o'er and o'er | R |
| But blind to former as to future fate | A |
| What mortal knows his pre existent state | A |
| Who knows how long thy transmigrating soul | B |
| Might from Boeotian to Boeotian roll | B |
| How many Dutchmen she vouchsaf'd to thrid | A |
| How many stages thro' old Monks she rid | A |
| And all who since in mild benighted days | S |
| Mix'd the Owl's ivy with the Poet's bays | S |
| As man's Maeanders to the vital spring | T |
| Roll all their tides then back their circles bring | T |
| Or whirligigs twirl'd round by skilful swain | U |
| Suck the thread in then yield it out again | V |
| All nonsense thus of old or modern date | A |
| Shall in thee centre from thee circulate | A |
| For this our Queen unfolds to vision true | B |
| Thy mental eye for thou hast much to view | B |
| Old scenes of glory times long cast behind | A |
| Shall first recall'd rush forward to thy mind | A |
| Then stretch thy sight o'er all her rising reign | U |
| And let the past and future fire thy brain | U |
| - | |
| Ascend this hill whose cloudy point commands | W |
| Her boundless empire over seas and lands | W |
| See round the Poles where keener spangles shine | X |
| Where spices smoke beneath the burning Line | X |
| Earth's wide extremes her sable flag display'd | A |
| And all the nations cover'd in her shade | A |
| Far eastward cast thine eye from whence the Sun | P |
| And orient Science their bright course begun | P |
| One god like Monarch all that pride confounds | Y |
| He whose long wall the wand'ring Tartar bounds | Y |
| Heav'ns what a pile whole ages perish there | Z |
| And one bright blaze turns Learning into air | Z |
| Thence to the south extend thy gladden'd eyes | A2 |
| There rival flames with equal glory rise | A2 |
| From shelves to shelves see greedy Vulcan roll | B |
| And lick up all the Physic of the Soul | B |
| How little mark that portion of the ball | B |
| Where faint at best the beams of Science fall | B |
| Soon as they dawn from Hyperborean skies | A2 |
| Embody'd dark what clouds of Vandals rise | A2 |
| Lo where Maeotis sleeps and hardly flows | B2 |
| The freezing Tanais thro' a waste of snows | B2 |
| The North by myriads pours her mighty sons | C2 |
| Great nurse of Goths of Alans and of Huns | C2 |
| See Alaric's stern port the martial frame | F |
| Of Genseric and Attila's dread name | F |
| See the bold Ostrogoths on Latium fall | B |
| See the fierce Visigoths on Spain and Gaul | B |
| See where the morning gilds the palmy shore | I |
| The soil that arts and infant letters bore | I |
| His conqu'ring tribes th' Arabian prophet draws | C2 |
| And saving Ignorance enthrones by Laws | C2 |
| See Christians Jews one heavy sabbath keep | D2 |
| And all the western world believe and sleep | D2 |
| - | |
| Lo Rome herself proud mistress now no more | I |
| Of arts but thund'ring against heathen lore | I |
| Her grey hair'd Synods damning books unread | A |
| And Bacon trembling for his brazen head | A |
| Padua with sighs beholds her Livy burn | E2 |
| And ev'n th' Antipodes Virgilius mourn | F2 |
| See the Cirque falls th' unpillar'd Temple nods | C2 |
| Streets pav'd with Heroes Tiber chok'd with Gods | C2 |
| 'Till Peter's keys some christ'ned Jove adorn | F2 |
| And Pan to Moses lends his pagan horn | F2 |
| See graceless Venus to a Virgin turn'd | A |
| Or Phidias broken and Apelles burn'd | A |
| - | |
| Behold yon' Isle by Palmers Pilgrims trod | A |
| Men bearded bald cowl'd uncowl'd shod unshod | A |
| Peel'd patch'd and pyebald linsey wolse brothers | C2 |
| Grave Mummers sleeveless some and shirtless others | C2 |
| That once was Britain Happy had she seen | G2 |
| No fiercer sons had Easter never been | H2 |
| In peace great Goddess ever be adorn'd | A |
| How keen the war if Dulness draw the sword | A |
| Thus visit not thy own on this blest age | I2 |
| Oh spread thy Influence but restrain thy Rage | I2 |
| - | |
| And see my son the hour is on its way | L |
| That lifts our Goddess to imperial sway | L |
| This fav'rite Isle long sever'd from her reign | U |
| Dove like she gathers to her wings again | V |
| Now look thro' Fate behold the scene she draws | C2 |
| What aids what armies to assert her cause | C2 |
| See all her progeny illustrious sight | A |
| Behold and count them as they rise to light | A |
| As Berecynthia while her offspring vie | B |
| In homage to the mother of the sky | B |
| Surveys around her in the blest abode | A |
| An hundred sons and ev'ry son a God | A |
| Not with less glory mighty Dulness crown'd | A |
| Shall take thro' Grubstreet her triumphant round | A |
| And her Parnassus glancing o'er at once | C2 |
| Behold an hundred sons and each a Dunce | C2 |
| - | |
| Mark first that youth who takes the foremost place | C2 |
| And thrust his person full into your face | C2 |
| With all thy Father's virtues blest be born | F2 |
| And a new Cibber shall the stage adorn | F2 |
| A second see by meeker manners known | J2 |
| And modest as the maid that sips alone | J2 |
| From the strong fate of drams if thou get free | N |
| Another Durfrey Ward shall sing in thee | N |
| Thee shall each ale house thee each gill house mourn | F2 |
| And answ'ring gin shops sourer sights return | E2 |
| Jacob the scourge of Grammar mark with awe | K2 |
| Nor less revere him blunderbuss of Law | B |
| Lo P l le's brow tremendous to the town | L2 |
| Horneck's fierce eye and Roome's funeral frown | L2 |
| Lo sneering Goode half mallice and half whim | M2 |
| A friend in glee ridiculously grim | M2 |
| Each Cygnet sweet of Bath and Tunbridge race | C2 |
| Whose tuneful whistling makes the waters pass | C2 |
| Each Songster Riddler ev'ry nameless name | F |
| All crowd who foremost shall be damn'd to Fame | F |
| Some strain in rhyme the Muses on their racks | C2 |
| Seream like the winding of ten thousand jacks | C2 |
| Some free from rhyme or reason rule or cheek | N2 |
| Break Priscian's head and Pegasus's neck | O2 |
| Down down they larum with impetuous whirl | B |
| The Pindars and the Miltons of a Curl | B |
| - | |
| Silence ye Wolves while Ralph to Cynthia howls | C2 |
| And makes night hideous Answer him ye Owls | C2 |
| Sense speech and measure living tongues and dead | A |
| Let all give way and Morris may be read | A |
| Flow Welsted flow like thine inspirer Beer | P2 |
| Tho' stale not ripe tho' thin yet never clear | P2 |
| So sweetly mawkish and so smoothly dull | B |
| Heady not strong o'erflowing tho' not full | B |
| Ah Dennis Gildon ah what ill starr'd rage | I2 |
| Divides a friendship long confirm'd by age | I2 |
| Blockheads with reason wicked wits abhor | I |
| But fool with fool is barb'rous civil war | I |
| Embrace embrace my sons be foes no more | I |
| Nor glad vile Poets with true Critics' gore | I |
| Behold yon Pair in strict embraces join'd | A |
| How like in manners and how like in mind | A |
| Equal in wit and equally polite | A |
| Shall this a Pasquin that a Grumbler write | A |
| Like are their merits like rewards they share | Z |
| That shines a Consul this Commissioner | R |
| - | |
| But who is he in closet close y pent | A |
| Of sober face with learned dust besprent | A |
| Right well mine eyes arede the myster wight | A |
| On parchment scraps y fed and Wormius hight | A |
| To future ages may thy dulness last | A |
| As thou preserv'st the dulness of the past | A |
| There dim in clouds the poring Scholiasts mark | Q2 |
| Wits who like owls see only in the dark | Q2 |
| A Lumber house of books in ev'ry head | A |
| For ever reading never to be read | A |
| But where each Science lifts its modern type | R2 |
| Hist'ry her Pot Divinity her Pipe | R2 |
| While proud Philosophy repines to show | C |
| Dishonest sight his breeches rent below | C |
| Embrown'd with native bronze lo Henley stands | C2 |
| Turning his voice and balancing his hands | C2 |
| How fluent nonsense trickles from his tongue | S2 |
| How sweet the periods neither said nor sung | S2 |
| Still break the benches Henley with thy strain | U |
| While Sherlock Hare and Gibson preach in vain | U |
| Oh great Restorer of the good old Stage | I2 |
| Preacher at once and Zany of thy age | I2 |
| Oh worthy thou of AEgypt's wise abodes | C2 |
| A decent priest where monkeys were the gods | C2 |
| But fate with butchers placed thy priestly stall | B |
| Meek modern faith to murder hack and maul | B |
| And bade thee live to crown Britannia's praise | C2 |
| In Toland's Tindal's and in Woolston's days | C2 |
| Yet oh my sons a father's words attend | A |
| So may the fates preserve the ears you lend | A |
| 'Tis yours a Bacon or a Locke to blame | F |
| A Newton's genius or a Milton's flame | F |
| But oh with One immortal One dispense | C2 |
| The source of Newton's Light of Bacon's Sense | C2 |
| Content each Emanation of his fires | C2 |
| That beams on earth each Virtue he inspires | C2 |
| Each Art he prompts each Charm he can create | A |
| Whate'er he gives are giv'n for you to hate | A |
| Persist by all divine in Man unaw'd | A |
| But 'Learn ye Dunces not to scorn your God ' | - |
| - | |
| Thus he for then a ray of Reason stole | B |
| Half thro' the solid darkness of his soul | B |
| But soon the cloud return'd and thus the Sire | R |
| See now what Dulness and her sons admire | T2 |
| See what the charms that smite the simple heart | A |
| Not touch'd by Nature and not reach'd by Art | A |
| His never blushing head he turn'd aside | A |
| Not half so pleas'd when Goodman prophesy'd | A |
| And look'd and saw a sable Sorc'rer rise | C2 |
| Swift to whose hand a winged volume flies | C2 |
| All sudden Gorgons hiss and Dragons glare | Z |
| And ten horn'd fiends and Giants rush to war | I |
| Hell rises Heav'n descends and dance on Earth | U2 |
| Goods imps and monsters music rage and mirth | U2 |
| A fire a jig a battle and a ball | B |
| 'Till one wide conflagration swallows all | B |
| - | |
| Thence a new world to Nature's laws unknown | J2 |
| Breaks our refulgent with a heav'n its own | J2 |
| Another Cynthia her new journey runs | C2 |
| And other planets circle other suns | C2 |
| The forests dance the rivers upward rise | C2 |
| Whales sport in woods and dolphins in the skies | C2 |
| And last to give the whole creation grace | C2 |
| Lo one vast Egg produces human race | C2 |
| Joy fills his soul joy innocent of thought | A |
| 'What pow'r ' he cries 'what pow'r these wonders wrought ' | - |
| Son what thou seek'st is in thee Look and find | A |
| Each monster meets his likeness in thy mind | A |
| Yet would'st thou more in yonder cloud behold | A |
| Whose sars'net skirts are edg'd with flamy gold | A |
| A matchless youth his nod these words controls | C2 |
| Wings the red lightning and the thunder rolls | C2 |
| Angel of Dulness sent to scatter round | A |
| Her magic charms o'er all unclassic ground | A |
| Yon stars yon suns he rears at pleasure higher | R |
| Illumes their light and sets their flames on fire | R |
| Immortal Rich how calm he sits at ease | C2 |
| 'Mid snows of paper and fierce hail of pease | C2 |
| And proud his Mistress' orders to perform | V2 |
| Rides in the whirlwind and directs the storm | V2 |
| But lo to dark encounter in mid air | Z |
| New wizards rise I see my Cibber there | Z |
| Booth in his cloudy tabernacle shrin'd | A |
| On grinning dragons thou shalt mount the wind | A |
| Dirge is the conflict dismal is the din | H2 |
| Here shouts all Drury there all Lincoln's inn | H2 |
| Contending Theatres our empire raise | C2 |
| Alike their labours and alike their praise | C2 |
| - | |
| And are these wonders Son to thee unknown | J2 |
| Unknown to thee these wonders are thy own | J2 |
| These Fate reserv'd to grace thy reign divine | X |
| Foreseen by me but ah withheld from mine | X |
| In Lud's old walls tho' long I rul'd renown'd | A |
| Far as loud Bow's stupendous bells resound | A |
| Tho' my own Aldermen conferr'd the bays | C2 |
| To me committing their eternal praise | C2 |
| Their full fed Heroes their pacific May'rs | C2 |
| Their annual trophies and their monthly wars | C2 |
| Tho' long my Party built on me their hopes | C2 |
| For writing Pamphlets and for roasting Popes | C2 |
| Yet lo in me what authors have to brag on | W2 |
| Reduc'd at last to hiss in my own dragon | P |
| Avert it Heav'n that thou my Cibber e'er | R |
| Should'st wag a serpent tail in Smithfield fair | Z |
| Like the vile straw that's blown about the streets | C2 |
| The needy Poet sticks to all he meets | C2 |
| Coach'd carted trod upon now loose now fast | A |
| And carry'd off in some Dog's tail at last | A |
| Happier thy fortunes like a rolling stone | J2 |
| Thy giddy dulness still shall lumber on | W2 |
| Safe in its heaviness shall never stray | L |
| But lick up ev'ry blockhead in thy way | L |
| Thee shall the Patriot thee the Courtier taste | A |
| And ev'ry year be duller than the last | A |
| Till rais'd from booths to Theatre to Court | A |
| Her seat imperial Dulness shall transport | A |
| Already Opera prepares the way | L |
| The sure fore runner of her gentle sway | L |
| Let her thy heart next Drabs and Dice engage | I2 |
| The third mad passion of thy doting age | I2 |
| Teach thou the warbling Polypheme to roar | I |
| And scream thyself as none e'er scream'd before | I |
| To aid our cause if Heav'n thou can'st not bend | A |
| Hell thou shalt move for Faustus is our friend | A |
| Pluto with Cato thou for this shalt join | X2 |
| And link the Mourning Bride to Prosperine | X2 |
| Grubstreet thy fall should men and Gods conspire | R |
| Thy stage shall stand ensure it but from Fire | R |
| Another AEschylus appears prepare | Z |
| For new abortions all ye pregnant fair | Z |
| In flames like Semele's be brought to bed | A |
| While op'ning Hell spouts wild fire at your head | A |
| - | |
| Now Bavius take the poppy from thy brow | Y2 |
| And place it here here all ye Heroes bow | Y2 |
| This this is he foretold by ancient rhymes | C2 |
| Th' Augustus born to bring Saturnian times | C2 |
| Signs following signs lead on the mighty year | P2 |
| See the dull stars roll round and re appear | P2 |
| See see our own true Phoebus wears the bays | C2 |
| Our Midas sits Lord Chancellor of Plays | C2 |
| On Poets' Tombs see Benson's titles writ | A |
| Lo Ambrose Philips is preferr'd for Wit | A |
| See under Ripley rise a new White hall | B |
| While Jones' and Boyle's united Labours fall | B |
| While Wren with sorrow to the grave descends | C2 |
| Gay dies unpension'd with a hundred friends | C2 |
| Hibernian Politics O Swift thy fate | A |
| And Pope's ten years to comment and translate | A |
| - | |
| Proceed great days till Learning fly the shore | I |
| Till Birch shall blush with noble blood no more | I |
| Till Thames see Eton's sons for ever play | L |
| Till Westminster's whole year be holiday | L |
| Till Isis' Elders reel their pupils' sport | A |
| And Alma Mater lie dissolv'd in Port | A |
| 'Enough enough ' the raptur'd Monarch cries | C2 |
| And thro' the Iv'ry Gate the Vision flies | C2 |
Alexander Pope
(1)
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About The Dunciad: Book Iii
The Dunciad: Book Iii is a poem by Alexander Pope. This page includes the poem text, poet information, related topics, comments, and similar poems.