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 YL2D2D2SSEEYet yet a moment one dim ray of light | A |
Indulge dread Chaos and eternal Night | A |
Of darkness visible so much be lent | B |
As half to show half veil the deep intent | B |
Ye pow'rs whose mysteries restor'd I sing | C |
To whom time bears me on his rapid wing | C |
Suspend a while your force inertly strong | D |
Then take at once the poet and the song | D |
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Now flam'd the Dog Star's unpropitious ray | E |
Smote ev'ry brain and wither'd every bay | E |
Sick was the sun the owl forsook his bow'r | F |
The moon struck prophet felt the madding hour | G |
Then rose the seed of Chaos and of Night | A |
To blot out order and extinguish light | A |
Of dull and venal a new world to mould | H |
And bring Saturnian days of lead and gold | H |
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She mounts the throne her head a cloud conceal'd | I |
In broad effulgence all below reveal'd | I |
'Tis thus aspiring Dulness ever shines | J |
Soft on her lap her laureate son reclines | J |
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Beneath her footstool Science groans in chains | K |
And Wit dreads exile penalties and pains | K |
There foam'd rebellious Logic gagg'd and bound | L |
There stripp'd fair Rhet'ric languish'd on the ground | L |
His blunted arms by Sophistry are borne | M |
And shameless Billingsgate her robes adorn | M |
Morality by her false guardians drawn | N |
Chicane in furs and Casuistry in lawn | N |
Gasps as they straighten at each end the cord | O |
And dies when Dulness gives her page the word | P |
Mad Mathesis alone was unconfin'd | Q |
Too mad for mere material chains to bind | Q |
Now to pure space lifts her ecstatic stare | R |
Now running round the circle finds it square | R |
But held in tenfold bonds the Muses lie | S |
Watch'd both by Envy's and by Flatt'ry's eye | S |
There to her heart sad Tragedy addres'd | Q |
The dagger wont to pierce the tyrant's breast | Q |
But sober History restrain'd her rage | T |
And promised vengeance on a barb'rous age | T |
There sunk Thalia nerveless cold and dead | Q |
Had not her sister Satire held her head | Q |
Nor couldst thou Chesterfield a tear refuse | U |
Thou weptst and with thee wept each gentle Muse | U |
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When lo a harlot form soft sliding by | S |
With mincing step small voice and languid eye | S |
Foreign her air her robe's discordant pride | Q |
In patchwork flutt'ring and her head aside | Q |
By singing peers upheld on either hand | Q |
She tripp'd and laugh'd too pretty much to stand | Q |
Cast on the prostrate Nine a scornful look | V |
Then thus in quaint recitativo spoke | W |
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'O | - |
Cara Cara | X |
silence all that train | Y |
Joy to great Chaos let Division reign | Y |
Chromatic tortures soon shall drive them hence | Z |
Break all their nerves and fritter all their sense | Z |
One trill shall harmonize joy grief and rage | T |
Wake the dull Church and lull the ranting Stage | T |
To the same notes thy sons shall hum or snore | A2 |
And all thy yawning daughters cry | S |
encore | A2 |
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Another Phoebus thy own Phoebus reigns | K |
Joys in my jigs and dances in my chains | K |
But soon ah soon Rebellion will commence | Z |
If Music meanly borrows aid from Sense | Z |
Strong in new arms lo Giant Handel stands | B2 |
Like bold Briarerus with a hundred hands | B2 |
To stir to rouse to shake the soul he comes | C2 |
And Jove's own thunders follow Mars's drums | C2 |
Arrest him Empress or you sleep no more ' | - |
She heard and drove him to th' Hibernian shore | A2 |
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And now had Fame's posterior trumpet blown | D2 |
And all the nations summoned to the throne | D2 |
The young the old who feel her inward sway | E |
One instinct seizes and transports away | E |
None need a guide by sure attraction led | Q |
And strong impulsive gravity of head | Q |
None want a place for all their centre found | Q |
Hung to the Goddess and coher'd around | Q |
Not closer orb in orb conglob'd are seen | E2 |
The buzzing bees about their dusky Queen | E2 |
- | |
The gath'ring number as it moves along | D |
Involves a vast involuntary throng | D |
Who gently drawn and struggling less and less | F2 |
Roll in her Vortex and her pow'r confess | F2 |
Not those alone who passive own her laws | G2 |
But who weak rebels more advance her cause | H2 |
Whate'er of dunce in college or in town | I2 |
Sneers at another in toupee or gown | I2 |
Whate'er of mongrel no one class admits | J2 |
A wit with dunces and a dunce with wits | J2 |
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Nor absent they no members of her state | Q |
Who pay her homage in her sons the Great | Q |
Who false to Phoebus bow the knee to Baal | S |
Or impious preach his Word without a call | S |
Patrons who sneak from living worth to dead | Q |
Withhold the pension and set up the head | Q |
Or vest dull Flattery in the sacred gown | I2 |
Or give from fool to fool the laurel crown | I2 |
And last and worst with all the cant of wit | Q |
Without the soul the Muse's hypocrite | Q |
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There march'd the bard and blockhead side by side | Q |
Who rhym'd for hire and patroniz'd for pride | Q |
Narcissus prais'd with all a Parson's pow'r | F |
Look'd a white lily sunk beneath a show'r | F |
There mov'd Montalto with superior air | R |
His stretch'd out arm display'd a volume fair | R |
Courtiers and Patriots in two ranks divide | Q |
Through both he pass'd and bow'd from side to side | Q |
But as in graceful act with awful eye | S |
Compos'd he stood bold Benson thrust him by | S |
On two unequal crutches propp'd he came | K2 |
Milton's on this on that one Johnston's name | K2 |
The decent knight retir'd with sober rage | T |
Withdrew his hand and closed the pompous page | T |
But happy for him as the times went then | L2 |
Appear'd Apollo's mayor and aldermen | M2 |
On whom three hundred gold capp'd youths await | Q |
To lug the pond'rous volume off in state | Q |
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When Dulness smiling 'Thus revive the Wits | J2 |
But murder first and mince them all to bits | J2 |
As erst Medea cruel so to save | N2 |
A new edition of old Aeson gave | N2 |
Let standard authors thus like trophies born | M |
Appear more glorious as more hack'd and torn | M |
And you my Critics in the chequer'd shade | Q |
Admire new light through holes yourselves have made | Q |
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Leave not a foot of verse a foot of stone | D2 |
A page a grave that they can call their own | D2 |
But spread my sons your glory thin or thick | O2 |
On passive paper or on solid brick | O2 |
So by each bard an Alderman shall sit | Q |
A heavy lord shall hang at ev'ry wit | Q |
And while on Fame's triumphal Car they ride | Q |
Some Slave of mine be pinion'd to their side ' | - |
- | |
Now crowds on crowds around the Goddess press | F2 |
Each eager to present their first address | F2 |
Dunce scorning dunce beholds the next advance | P2 |
But fop shows fop superior complaisance | P2 |
When lo a spector rose whose index hand | Q |
Held forth the virtue of the dreadful wand | Q |
His beaver'd brow a birchen garland wears | P2 |
Dropping with infant's blood and mother's tears | P2 |
O'er every vein a shud'ring horror runs | P2 |
Eton and Winton shake through all their sons | P2 |
All flesh is humbl'd Westminster's bold race | P2 |
Shrink and confess the Genius of the place | P2 |
The pale boy senator yet tingling stands | P2 |
And holds his breeches close with both his hands | P2 |
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Then thus 'Since man from beast by words is known | D2 |
Words are man's province words we teach alone | D2 |
When reason doubtful like the Samian letter | G |
Points him two ways the narrower is the better | G |
Plac'd at the door of learning youth to guide | Q |
We never suffer it to stand too wide | Q |
To ask to guess to know as they commence | P2 |
As fancy opens the quick springs of sense | P2 |
We ply the memory we load the brain | Y |
Bind rebel Wit and double chain on chain | Y |
Confine the thought to exercise the breath | Q2 |
And keep them in the pale of words till death | Q2 |
Whate'er the talents or howe'er design'd | Q |
We hang one jingling padlock on the mind | Q |
A Poet the first day he dips his quill | S |
And what the last A very Poet still | S |
Pity the charm works only in our wall | S |
Lost lost too soon in yonder house or hall | S |
There truant Wyndham every Muse gave o'er | G |
There Talbot sunk and was a wit no more | A2 |
How sweet an Ovid Murray was our boast | Q |
How many Martials were in Pult'ney lost | Q |
Else sure some bard to our eternal praise | P2 |
In twice ten thousand rhyming nights and days | P2 |
Had reach'd the work and All that mortal can | R2 |
And South beheld that Masterpiece of Man ' | - |
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'Oh' cried the Goddess 'for some pedant Reign | Y |
Some gentle James to bless the land again | L2 |
To stick the Doctor's chair into the throne | D2 |
Give law to words or war with words alone | D2 |
Senates and courts with Greek and Latin rule | S |
And turn the council to a grammar school | S |
For sure if Dulness sees a grateful day | E |
'Tis in the shade of arbitrary sway | E |
Alexander Pope
(1)
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