The Poor Man's Lamb Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis

Rhyme Scheme: AAAAAAAABBCCDEFGAAAA HIJJKKLLMMNO PPQR AAAIISSS TUVVWWAAGEEXXAAUUAAY YAAZA2B2C2AAD2D2E2E2 AAAA AAF2G2UUUH2H2I2I2J2K AAK2K2KKL2L2 AAUUU M2M2UNKKAACCCKKKKKKA AKAN2N2N2O2O2AA AAKKKKAAM2M2CCKKVVP2 P2 AAKKQ2Q2KK UUKKR2R2R2 S2T2

NOW spent the alter'd King in am'rous CaresA
The Hours of sacred Hymns and solemn Pray'rsA
In vain the Alter waits his slow returnsA
Where unattended Incense faintly burnsA
In vain the whisp'ring Priests their Fears expressA
And of the Change a thousand Causes guessA
Heedless of all their Censures He retiresA
And in his Palace feeds his secret FiresA
Impatient till from Rabbah Tydings tellB
That near those Walls the poor Uriah fellB
Led to the Onset by a Chosen FewC
Who at the treacherous Signal soon withdrewC
Nor to his Rescue e'er return'd againD
Till by fierce Ammon's Sword they saw the Victim slainE
'Tis pass'd 'tis done the holy Marriage KnotF
Too strong to be unty'd at last is cutG
And now to Bathsheba the King declaresA
That with his Heart the Kingdom too is hersA
That Israel's Throne and longing Monarch's ArmsA
Are to be fill'd but with her widow'd CharmsA
Nor must the Days of formal Tears exceedH
To cross the Living and abuse the DeadI
This she denies and signs of Grief are wornJ
But mourns no more than may her Face adornJ
Give to those Eyes which Love and Empire fir'dK
A melting Softness more to be desir'dK
Till the fixt Time tho' hard to be endur'dL
Was pass'd and a sad Consort's Name procur'dL
When with the Pomp that suits a Prince's ThoughtM
By Passion sway'd and glorious Woman taughtM
A Queen she's made than Michal seated higherN
Whilst light unusual Airs prophane the hallow'd LyreO
-
Where art thou Nathan where's that Spirit nowP
Giv'n to brave Vice tho' on a Prince's BrowP
In what low Cave or on what Desert CoastQ
Now Virtue wants it is thy Presence lostR
-
-
But lo he comes the Rev'rend Bard appearsA
Defil'd with Dust his awful silver HairsA
And his rough Garment wet with falling TearsA
The King this mark'd and conscious wou'd have fledI
The healing Balm which for his Wounds was shedI
Till the more wary Priest the Serpents ArtS
Join'd to the Dove like Temper of his HeartS
And thus retards the Prince just ready now to partS
-
-
Hear me the Cause betwixt two Neighbors hearT
Thou who for Justice dost the Sceptre bearU
Help the Opprest nor let me weep aloneV
For him that calls for Succour from the ThroneV
Good Princes for Protection are Ador'dW
And Greater by the Shield than by the SwordW
This clears the Doubt and now no more he fearsA
The Cause his Own and therefore stays and hearsA
When thus the ProphetG
In a flow'ry PlainE
A King like Man does in full Plenty reignE
Casts round his Eyes in vain to reach the BoundX
Which Jordan's Flood sets to his fertile GroundX
Countless his Flocks whilst Lebanon containsA
A Herd as large kept by his numerous SwainsA
That fill with morning Bellowings the cool AirU
And to the Cedar's shade at scorching Noon repairU
Near to this Wood a lowly Cottage standsA
Built by the humble Owner's painful HandsA
Fenc'd by a Stubble roof from Rain and HeatY
Secur'd without within all Plain and NeatY
A Field of small Extent surrounds the PlaceA
In which One single Ewe did sport and grazeA
This his whole Stock till in full time there cameZ
To bless his utmost Hopes a snowy LambA2
Which lest the Season yet too Cold might proveB2
And Northern Blasts annoy it from the GroveC2
Or tow'ring Fowl on the weak Prey might siezeA
For with his Store his Fears must too increaseA
He brings it Home and lays it by his SideD2
At once his Wealth his Pleasure and his PrideD2
Still bars the Door by Labour call'd awayE2
And when returning at the Close of DayE2
With One small Mess himself and that sustainsA
And half his Dish it shares and half his slender GainsA
When to the great Man's table now there comesA
A Lord as great follow'd by hungry GroomsA
-
For these must be provided sundry MeatsA
The best for Some for Others coarser CatesA
One Servant diligent above the restF2
To help his Master to contrive the FeastG2
Extols the Lamb was nourished with such CareU
So fed so lodg'd it must be Princely FareU
And having this my Lord his own may spareU
In haste he sends led by no Law but WillH2
Not to entreat or purchase but to KillH2
The Messenger's arriv'd the harmless SpoilI2
Unus'd to fly runs Bleating to the ToilI2
Whilst for the Innocent the Owner fear'dJ2
And sure wou'd move cou'd Poverty be heardK
Oh spare he cries the Product of my CaresA
My Stock's Encrease the Blessing on my Pray'rsA
My growing Hope and Treasure of my LifeK2
More was he speaking when the murd'ring KnifeK2
Shew'd him his Suit tho' just must be deny'dK
And the white Fleece in its own Scarlet dy'dK
Whilst the poor helpless Wretch stands weeping byL2
And lifts his Hands for Justice to the SkyL2
-
Which he shall find th' incensed King repliesA
When for the proud Offence th' Oppressor diesA
O Nathan by the Holy Name I swearU
Our Land such Wrongs unpunished shall not bearU
If with the Fault th' Offender thou declareU
-
To whom the Prophet closing with the TimeM2
Thou art the Man replies and thine th' ill natur'd CrimeM2
Nor think against thy Place or State I errU
A Pow'r above thee does this Charge preferN
Urg'd by whose Spirit hither am I broughtK
T' expostulate his Goodness and thy FaultK
To lead thee back to those forgotten YearsA
In Labour spent and lowly Rustick CaresA
When in the Wilderness thy Flocks but fewC
Thou didst the Shepherd's simple Art pursueC
Thro' crusting Frosts and penetrating DewC
Till wondring Jesse saw six Brothers pastK
And Thou Elected Thou the Least and LastK
A Sceptre to thy Rural Hand convey'dK
And in thy Bosom Royal Beauties laidK
A lovely Princess made thy Prize that DayK
When on the shaken Ground the Giant layK
Stupid in Death beyond the Reach of CriesA
That bore thy shouted Fame to list'ning SkiesA
And drove the flying Foe as fast awayK
As Winds of old Locusts to Egypt's SeaA
Thy Heart with Love thy Temples with RenownN2
Th' All giving Hand of Heav'n did largely crownN2
Whilst yet thy Cheek was spread with youthful DownN2
What more cou'd craving Man of God imploreO2
Or what for favour'd Man cou'd God do moreO2
Yet cou'd not These nor Israel's Throne sufficeA
Intemp'rate Wishes drawn thro' wand'ring EyesA
-
One Beauty not thy own and seen by chanceA
Melts down the Work of Grace with an alluring GlanceA
Chafes the Spirit fed by sacred ArtK
And blots the Title AFTER GOD'S OWN HEARTK
Black Murder breeds to level at his HeadK
Who boasts so fair a Part'ner of his BedK
Nor longer must possess those envy'd CharmsA
The single Treasure of his House and ArmsA
Giving by this thy Fall cause to BlasphemeM2
To all the Heathen the Almighty NameM2
For which the Sword shall still thy Race pursueC
And in revolted Israel's scornful ViewC
Thy captiv'd Wives shall be in Triumph ledK
Unto a bold Usurper's shameful BedK
Who from thy Bowels sprung shall seize thy ThroneV
And scourge thee by a Sin beyond thy ownV
Thou hast thy Fault in secret Darkness doneP2
But this the World shall see before the Noonday's SunP2
-
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Enough the King enough the Saint repliesA
And pours his swift Repentance from his EyesA
Falls on the Ground and tears the Nuptial VestK
By which his Crime's Completion was exprestK
Then with a Sigh blasting to Carnal LoveQ2
Drawn deep as Hell and piercing Heaven aboveQ2
Let Me he cries let Me attend his RodK
For I have sinn'd for I have lost my GodK
-
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Hold says the Prophet of that Speech bewareU
God ne'er was lost unless by Man's DespairU
The Wound that is thus willingly reveal'dK
Th' Almighty is as willing should be heal'dK
Thus wash'd in Tears thy Soul as fair does showR2
As the first Fleece which on the Lamb does growR2
Or on the Mountain's top the lately fallen SnowR2
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Yet to the World that Justice may appearS2
Acting her Part impT2

Anne Kingsmill Finch



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