To The Gentle Reader Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis

Rhyme Scheme: AB BBBBBB CDC BB BEBEBB FGFGBB HIJIBB BKBKBB BIBIBB LMLBB

'A French writer whom I love well speaks of three kinds ofA
companions men women and books ' Sir John DavysB
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Three kinds of companions men women and booksB
Were enough said the elderly Sage for his endsB
And the women we deem that he chose for their looksB
And the men for their cellars the books were his friendsB
'Man delights me not ' often 'nor woman ' but booksB
Are the best of good comrades in loneliest nooksB
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For man will be wrangling for woman will fretC
About anything infinitesimal smallD
Like the Sage in our Plato I'm 'anxious to getC
On the side' on the sunnier side 'of a wall '-
Let the wind of the world toss the nations like rooksB
If only you'll leave me at peace with my BooksB
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And which are my books why 'tis much as you pleaseB
For given 'tis a book it can hardly be wrongE
And Bradshaw himself I can study with easeB
Though for choice I might call for a Sermon or SongE
And Locker on London and Sala on CooksB
'Tom Brown ' and Plotinus they're all of them BooksB
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There's Fielding to lap one in currents of mirthF
There's Herrick to sing of a flower or a fayG
Or good Maitre Francoys to bring one to earthF
If Shelley or Coleridge have snatched one awayG
There's Muller on Speech there is Gurney on SpooksB
There is Tylor on Totems there's all sorts of BooksB
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There's roaming in regions where every one's beenH
Encounters where no one was ever beforeI
There's 'Leaves' from the Highlands we owe to the QueenJ
There's Holly's and Leo's adventures in KorI
There's Tanner who dwelt with Pawnees and ChinooksB
You can cover a great deal of country in BooksB
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There are books highly thought of that nobody readsB
There is Geusius' dearly delectable tomeK
Of the Cannibal he on his neighbour who feedsB
And in blood red morocco 'tis bound by DeromeK
There's Montaigne here a Foppens there's Roberts on FlukesB
There's Elzevirs Aldines and Gryphius' BooksB
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There's Bunyan there's Walton in early editionsB
There's many a quarto uncommonly rareI
There's quaint old Quevedo adream with his visionsB
There's Johnson the portly and Burton the spareI
There's Boston of Ettrick who preached of the 'CrooksB
In the Lots' of us mortals who bargain for BooksB
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There's Ruskin to keep one exclaiming 'What next '-
There's Browning to puzzle and Gilbert to chaffL
And Marcus Aurelius to soothe one if vexedM
And good MARCUS TVAINUS to lend you a laughL
There be capital tomes that are filled with fly hooksB
And I've frequently found them the best kind of BooksB

Andrew Lang



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