Will Waterproof's Lyrical Monologue Poem Rhyme Scheme

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Alfred Lord Tennyson

Will Waterproof's Lyrical Monologue Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis

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O plump head waiter at The Cock	A
To which I most resort	B
How goes the time 'Tis five o'clock	A
Go fetch a pint of port	B
But let it not be such as that	C
You set before chance comers	D
But such whose father grape grew fat	C
On Lusitanian summers	D
	-
No vain libation to the Muse	E
But may she still be kind	F
And whisper lovely words and use	G
Her influence on the mind	F
To make me write my random rhymes	H
Ere they be half forgotten	I
Nor add and alter many times	H
Till all be ripe and rotten	I
	-
I pledge her and she comes and dips	J
Her laurel in the wine	K
And lays it thrice upon my lips	J
These favour'd lips of mine	K
Until the charm have power to make	L
New life blood warm the bosom	M
And barren commonplaces break	L
In full and kindly blossom	M
	-
I pledge her silent at the board	N
Her gradual fingers steal	O
And touch upon the master chord	N
Of all I felt and feel	O
Old wishes ghosts of broken plans	P
And phantom hopes assemble	Q
And that child's heart within the man's	P
Begins to move and tremble	Q
	-
Thro' many an hour of summer suns	R
By many pleasant ways	S
Against its fountain upward runs	R
The current of my days	S
I kiss the lips I once have kiss'd	T
The gas light wavers dimmer	U
And softly thro' a vinous mist	T
My college friendships glimmer	U
	-
I grow in worth and wit and sense	V
Unboding critic pen	W
Or that eternal want of pence	V
Which vexes public men	W
Who hold their hands to all and cry	X
For that which all deny them	Y
Who sweep the crossings wet or dry	X
And all the world go by them	Y
	-
Ah yet tho' all the world forsake	L
Tho' fortune clip my wings	Z
I will not cramp my heart nor take	L
Half views of men and things	Z
Let Whig and Tory stir their blood	A2
There must be stormy weather	U
But for some true result of good	B2
All parties work together	U
	-
Let there be thistles there are grapes	C2
If old things there are new	D2
Ten thousand broken lights and shapes	C2
Yet glimpses of the true	D2
Let raffs be rife in prose and rhyme	E2
We lack not rhymes and reasons	R
As on this whirligig of Time	E2
We circle with the seasons	R
	-
This earth is rich in man and maid	F2
With fair horizons bound	G2
This whole wide earth of light and shade	F2
Comes out a perfect round	G2
High over roaring Temple bar	H2
And set in Heaven's third story	I2
I look at all things as they are	H2
But thro' a kind of glory	I2
	-
Head waiter honour'd by the guest	J2
Half mused or reeling ripe	K2
The pint you brought me was the best	J2
That ever came from pipe	K2
But tho' the port surpasses praise	S
My nerves have dealt with stiffer	U
Is there some magic in the place	L2
Or do my peptics differ	U
	-
For since I came to live and learn	M2
No pint of white or red	N2
Had ever half the power to turn	M2
This wheel within my head	N2
Which bears a season'd brain about	O2
Unsubject to confusion	I
Tho' soak'd and saturate out and out	O2
Thro' every convolution	I
	-
For I am of a numerous house	P2
With many kinsmen gay	Q2
Where long and largely we carouse	R2
As who shall say me nay	Q2
Each month a birthday coming on	S2
We drink defying trouble	Q
Or sometimes two would meet in one	I
And then we drank it double	Q
	-
Whether the vintage yet unkept	O2
Had relish fiery new	D2
Or elbow deep in sawdust slept	O2
As old as Waterloo	D2
Or stow'd when classic Canning died	O2
In musty bins and chambers	D
Had cast upon its crusty side	O2
The gloom of ten Decembers	D
	-
The Muse the jolly Muse it is	D
She answer'd to my call	T2
She changes with that mood or this	D
Is all in all to all	T2
She lit the spark within my throat	O2
To make my blood run quicker	U
Used all her fiery will and smote	O2
Her life into the liquor	U
	-
And hence this halo lives about	O2
The waiter's hands that reach	U2
To each his perfect pint of stout	O2
His proper chop to each	U2
He looks not like the common breed	O2
That with the napkin dally	I2
I think he came like Ganymede	O2
From some delightful valley	I2
	-
The Cock was of a larger egg	V2
Than modern poultry drop	W2
Stept forward on a firmer leg	V2
And cramm'd a plumper crop	W2
Upon an ampler dunghill trod	O2
Crow'd lustier late and early	I2
Sipt wine from silver praising God	O2
And raked in golden barley	I2
	-
A private life was all his joy	X2
Till in a court he saw	D
A something pottle bodied boy	X2
That knuckled at the taw	O2
He stoop'd and clutch'd him fair and good	O2
Flew over roof and casement	O2
His brothers of the weather stood	O2
Stock still for sheer amazement	O2
	-
But he by farmstead thorpe and spire	Y2
And follow'd with acclaims	D
A sign to many a staring shire	Y2
Came crowing over Thames	D
Right down by smoky Paul's they bore	Z2
Till where the street grows straiter	Z2
One fix'd for ever at the door	Z2
And one became head waiter	Z2
	-
But whither would my fancy go	A3
How out of place she makes	D
The violet of a legend blow	A3
Among the chops and steaks	D
'Tis but a steward of the can	B3
One shade more plump than common	I
As just and mere a serving man	B3
As any born of woman	I
	-
I ranged too high what draws me down	C3
Into the common day	O2
Is it the weight of that half crown	C3
Which I shall have to pay	O2
For something duller than at first	O2
Nor wholly comfortable	Q
I sit my empty glass reversed	O2
And thrumming on the table	Q
	-
Half fearful that with self at strife	D3
I take myself to task	E3
Lest of the fullness of my life	D3
I leave an empty flask	E3
For I had hope by something rare	Z2
To prove myself a poet	O2
But while I plan and plan my hair	Z2
Is gray before I know it	O2
	-
So fares it since the years began	B3
Till they be gather'd up	F3
The truth that flies the flowing can	B3
Will haunt the vacant cup	F3
And others' follies teach us not	O2
Nor much their wisdom teaches	D
And most of sterling worth is what	O2
Our own experience preaches	D
	-
Ah let the rusty theme alone	G3
We know not what we know	A3
But for my pleasant hour 'tis gone	H3
'Tis gone and let it go	A3
'Tis gone a thousand such have slipt	O2
Away from my embraces	D
And fall'n into the dusty crypt	O2
Of darken'd forms and faces	D
	-
Go therefore thou thy betters went	O2
Long since and came no more	Z2
With peals of genial clamour sent	O2
From many a tavern door	Z2
With twisted quirks and happy hits	D
From misty men of letters	D
The tavern hours of mighty wits	D
Thine elders and thy betters	D
	-
Hours when the Poet's words and looks	D
Had yet their native glow	A3
Not yet the fear of little books	D
Had made him talk for show	A3
But all his vast heart sherris warm'd	O2
He flash'd his random speeches	D
Ere days that deal in ana swarm'd	O2
His literary leeches	D
	-
So mix for ever with the past	O2
Like all good things on earth	I3
For should I prize thee couldst thou last	O2
At half thy real worth	I3
I hold it good good things should pass	D
With time I will not quarrel	Q
It is but yonder empty glass	D
That makes me maudlin moral	Q
	-
Head waiter of the chop house here	Z2
To which I most resort	O2
I too must part I hold thee dear	Z2
For this good pint of port	O2
For this thou shalt from all things suck	J3
Marrow of mirth and laughter	Z2
And wheresoe'er thou move good luck	J3
Shall fling her old shoe after	Z2
	-
But thou wilt never move from hence	D
The sphere thy fate allots	D
Thy latter days increased with pence	D
Go down among the pots	D
Thou battenest by the greasy gleam	K3
In haunts of hungry sinners	D
Old boxes larded with the steam	K3
Of thirty thousand dinners	D
	-
We fret we fume would shift our skins	D
Would quarrel with our lot	O2
Thy care is under polish'd tins	D
To serve the hot and hot	O2
To come and go and come again	W
Returning like the pewit	O2
And watch'd by silent gentlemen	L3
That trifle with the cruet	O2
	-
Live long ere from thy topmost head	O2
The thick set hazel dies	D
Long ere the hateful crow shall tread	O2
The corners of thine eyes	D
Live long nor feel in head or chest	O2
Our changeful equinoxes	D
Till mellow Death like some late guest	O2
Shall call thee from the boxes	D
	-
But when he calls and thou shalt cease	D
To pace the gritted floor	Z2
And laying down an unctuous lease	D
Of life shalt earn no more	Z2
No carved cross bones the types of Death	M3
Shall show thee past to Heaven	I
But carved cross pipes and underneath	N3
A pint pot neatly graven	I