The Dunciad: Book Iv Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis

Rhyme Scheme: AABBCCDD EEFGAAHH IIJJ KKLLMMNNOPQQRRSSQQTT QQUU SSQQQQVW XYYZZTTA2SA2 KKZZB2B2C2C2 A2 D2D2EEQQQQE2E2 DDF2F2G2H2I2I2J2J2 QQSSQQI2I2QQ QQFFRRQQSSK2K2TTL2M2 QQ J2J2N2N2MMQQ D2D2O2O2QQQ F2F2P2P2QQP2P2P2P2P2 P2P2P2 D2D2GGQQP2P2YYQ2Q2QQ SSSSGA2QQP2P2R2 YL2D2D2SSEE

Yet yet a moment one dim ray of lightA
Indulge dread Chaos and eternal NightA
Of darkness visible so much be lentB
As half to show half veil the deep intentB
Ye pow'rs whose mysteries restor'd I singC
To whom time bears me on his rapid wingC
Suspend a while your force inertly strongD
Then take at once the poet and the songD
-
Now flam'd the Dog Star's unpropitious rayE
Smote ev'ry brain and wither'd every bayE
Sick was the sun the owl forsook his bow'rF
The moon struck prophet felt the madding hourG
Then rose the seed of Chaos and of NightA
To blot out order and extinguish lightA
Of dull and venal a new world to mouldH
And bring Saturnian days of lead and goldH
-
She mounts the throne her head a cloud conceal'dI
In broad effulgence all below reveal'dI
'Tis thus aspiring Dulness ever shinesJ
Soft on her lap her laureate son reclinesJ
-
Beneath her footstool Science groans in chainsK
And Wit dreads exile penalties and painsK
There foam'd rebellious Logic gagg'd and boundL
There stripp'd fair Rhet'ric languish'd on the groundL
His blunted arms by Sophistry are borneM
And shameless Billingsgate her robes adornM
Morality by her false guardians drawnN
Chicane in furs and Casuistry in lawnN
Gasps as they straighten at each end the cordO
And dies when Dulness gives her page the wordP
Mad Mathesis alone was unconfin'dQ
Too mad for mere material chains to bindQ
Now to pure space lifts her ecstatic stareR
Now running round the circle finds it squareR
But held in tenfold bonds the Muses lieS
Watch'd both by Envy's and by Flatt'ry's eyeS
There to her heart sad Tragedy addres'dQ
The dagger wont to pierce the tyrant's breastQ
But sober History restrain'd her rageT
And promised vengeance on a barb'rous ageT
There sunk Thalia nerveless cold and deadQ
Had not her sister Satire held her headQ
Nor couldst thou Chesterfield a tear refuseU
Thou weptst and with thee wept each gentle MuseU
-
When lo a harlot form soft sliding byS
With mincing step small voice and languid eyeS
Foreign her air her robe's discordant prideQ
In patchwork flutt'ring and her head asideQ
By singing peers upheld on either handQ
She tripp'd and laugh'd too pretty much to standQ
Cast on the prostrate Nine a scornful lookV
Then thus in quaint recitativo spokeW
-
'O-
Cara CaraX
silence all that trainY
Joy to great Chaos let Division reignY
Chromatic tortures soon shall drive them henceZ
Break all their nerves and fritter all their senseZ
One trill shall harmonize joy grief and rageT
Wake the dull Church and lull the ranting StageT
To the same notes thy sons shall hum or snoreA2
And all thy yawning daughters cryS
encoreA2
-
Another Phoebus thy own Phoebus reignsK
Joys in my jigs and dances in my chainsK
But soon ah soon Rebellion will commenceZ
If Music meanly borrows aid from SenseZ
Strong in new arms lo Giant Handel standsB2
Like bold Briarerus with a hundred handsB2
To stir to rouse to shake the soul he comesC2
And Jove's own thunders follow Mars's drumsC2
Arrest him Empress or you sleep no more '-
She heard and drove him to th' Hibernian shoreA2
-
And now had Fame's posterior trumpet blownD2
And all the nations summoned to the throneD2
The young the old who feel her inward swayE
One instinct seizes and transports awayE
None need a guide by sure attraction ledQ
And strong impulsive gravity of headQ
None want a place for all their centre foundQ
Hung to the Goddess and coher'd aroundQ
Not closer orb in orb conglob'd are seenE2
The buzzing bees about their dusky QueenE2
-
The gath'ring number as it moves alongD
Involves a vast involuntary throngD
Who gently drawn and struggling less and lessF2
Roll in her Vortex and her pow'r confessF2
Not those alone who passive own her lawsG2
But who weak rebels more advance her causeH2
Whate'er of dunce in college or in townI2
Sneers at another in toupee or gownI2
Whate'er of mongrel no one class admitsJ2
A wit with dunces and a dunce with witsJ2
-
Nor absent they no members of her stateQ
Who pay her homage in her sons the GreatQ
Who false to Phoebus bow the knee to BaalS
Or impious preach his Word without a callS
Patrons who sneak from living worth to deadQ
Withhold the pension and set up the headQ
Or vest dull Flattery in the sacred gownI2
Or give from fool to fool the laurel crownI2
And last and worst with all the cant of witQ
Without the soul the Muse's hypocriteQ
-
There march'd the bard and blockhead side by sideQ
Who rhym'd for hire and patroniz'd for prideQ
Narcissus prais'd with all a Parson's pow'rF
Look'd a white lily sunk beneath a show'rF
There mov'd Montalto with superior airR
His stretch'd out arm display'd a volume fairR
Courtiers and Patriots in two ranks divideQ
Through both he pass'd and bow'd from side to sideQ
But as in graceful act with awful eyeS
Compos'd he stood bold Benson thrust him byS
On two unequal crutches propp'd he cameK2
Milton's on this on that one Johnston's nameK2
The decent knight retir'd with sober rageT
Withdrew his hand and closed the pompous pageT
But happy for him as the times went thenL2
Appear'd Apollo's mayor and aldermenM2
On whom three hundred gold capp'd youths awaitQ
To lug the pond'rous volume off in stateQ
-
When Dulness smiling 'Thus revive the WitsJ2
But murder first and mince them all to bitsJ2
As erst Medea cruel so to saveN2
A new edition of old Aeson gaveN2
Let standard authors thus like trophies bornM
Appear more glorious as more hack'd and tornM
And you my Critics in the chequer'd shadeQ
Admire new light through holes yourselves have madeQ
-
Leave not a foot of verse a foot of stoneD2
A page a grave that they can call their ownD2
But spread my sons your glory thin or thickO2
On passive paper or on solid brickO2
So by each bard an Alderman shall sitQ
A heavy lord shall hang at ev'ry witQ
And while on Fame's triumphal Car they rideQ
Some Slave of mine be pinion'd to their side '-
-
Now crowds on crowds around the Goddess pressF2
Each eager to present their first addressF2
Dunce scorning dunce beholds the next advanceP2
But fop shows fop superior complaisanceP2
When lo a spector rose whose index handQ
Held forth the virtue of the dreadful wandQ
His beaver'd brow a birchen garland wearsP2
Dropping with infant's blood and mother's tearsP2
O'er every vein a shud'ring horror runsP2
Eton and Winton shake through all their sonsP2
All flesh is humbl'd Westminster's bold raceP2
Shrink and confess the Genius of the placeP2
The pale boy senator yet tingling standsP2
And holds his breeches close with both his handsP2
-
Then thus 'Since man from beast by words is knownD2
Words are man's province words we teach aloneD2
When reason doubtful like the Samian letterG
Points him two ways the narrower is the betterG
Plac'd at the door of learning youth to guideQ
We never suffer it to stand too wideQ
To ask to guess to know as they commenceP2
As fancy opens the quick springs of senseP2
We ply the memory we load the brainY
Bind rebel Wit and double chain on chainY
Confine the thought to exercise the breathQ2
And keep them in the pale of words till deathQ2
Whate'er the talents or howe'er design'dQ
We hang one jingling padlock on the mindQ
A Poet the first day he dips his quillS
And what the last A very Poet stillS
Pity the charm works only in our wallS
Lost lost too soon in yonder house or hallS
There truant Wyndham every Muse gave o'erG
There Talbot sunk and was a wit no moreA2
How sweet an Ovid Murray was our boastQ
How many Martials were in Pult'ney lostQ
Else sure some bard to our eternal praiseP2
In twice ten thousand rhyming nights and daysP2
Had reach'd the work and All that mortal canR2
And South beheld that Masterpiece of Man '-
-
'Oh' cried the Goddess 'for some pedant ReignY
Some gentle James to bless the land againL2
To stick the Doctor's chair into the throneD2
Give law to words or war with words aloneD2
Senates and courts with Greek and Latin ruleS
And turn the council to a grammar schoolS
For sure if Dulness sees a grateful dayE
'Tis in the shade of arbitrary swayE

Alexander Pope



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