To The World Poem Rhyme Scheme

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A farewell for a Gentlewoman vertuous and noble	A
	-
False world good night since thou hast brought	B
That houre upon my morne of age	C
Hence forth I quit thee from my thought	B
My part is ended on thy stage	C
Doe not once hope that thou canst tempt	D
A spirit so resolv'd to tread	E
Upon thy throat and live exempt	D
From all the nets that thou canst spread	E
I know thy formes are studied arts	F
Thy subtill wayes be narrow straits	G
Thy curtesie but sudden starts	F
And what thou call'st thy gifts are baits	G
I know too though thou strut and paint	H
Yet art thou both shrunke up and old	I
That onely fooles make thee a saint	H
And all thy good is to be sold	I
I know thou whole art but a shop	J
Of toyes and trifles traps and snares	K
To take the weake or make them stop	J
Yet art thou falser than thy wares	K
And knowing this should I yet stay	L
Like such as blow away their lives	M
And never will redeeme a day	L
Enamor'd of their golden gyves	M
Or having scap'd shall I returne	N
And thrust my neck into the noose	M
From whence so lately I did burne	N
With all my powers my selfe to loose	M
What bird or beast is knowne so dull	A
That fled his cage or broke his chaine	N
And tasting aire and freedome wull	A
Render his head in there againe	N
If these who have but sense can shun	N
The engines that have them annoy'd	O
Little for mee had reason done	N
If I could not thy ginnes avoid	O
Yes threaten doe Alas I feare	P
As little as I hope from thee	Q
I know thou canst nor shew nor beare	P
More hatred than thou hast to mee	Q
My tender first and simple yeares	M
Thou did'st abuse and then betray	P
Since stird'st up jealousies and feares	M
When all the causes were away	P
Then in a soile hast planted me	Q
Where breathe the basest of thy fooles	M
Where envious arts professed be	Q
And pride and ignorance the schooles	M
Where nothing is examin'd weigh'd	R
But as 'tis rumor'd so beleev'd	R
Where every freedome is betray'd	R
And every goodnesse tax'd or griev'd	R
But what we'are borne for wee must beare	P
Our fraile condition it is such	S
That what to all may happen here	P
If't chance to mee I must not grutch	S
Else I my state should much mistake	T
To harbour a divided thought	R
From all my kinde that for my sake	T
There should a miracle be wrought	R
No I doe know that I was borne	N
To age misfortune sicknesse griefe	U
But I will beare these with that scorne	N
As shall not need thy false reliefe	U
Nor for my peace will I goe farre	P
As wandrers doe that still doe rome	V
But make my strengths such as they are	P
Here in my bosome and at home	V

Ben Jonson

To The World Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis

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