Independence Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis

Rhyme Scheme: AABBCCDDEEFFGGHHIIJJ KKLLMMNNOBPPQQJJRRST UUNNVVWWXXYYPPZA2B2B 2C2D2E2E2F2F2G2G2BOF 2F2H2H2B2B2HHI2I2J2J 2STC2C2K2K2L2QZZM2M2 KKN2N2O2O2M2M2M2M2F2 F2B2B2B2B2PPKKYYBOP2 P2Q2Q2R2R2S2S2T2T2U2 U2FFV2V2B2A2W2W2M2M2 X2X2NY2Z2Z2MA2A3A3J2 J2B3B3C3C3D3D3G2G2E3 E3B2B2S2S2F3F3G3G3W2 W2H3H3PPLLI3

Happy the bard though few such bards we findA
Who 'bove controlment dares to speak his mindA
Dares unabash'd in every place appearB
And nothing fears but what he ought to fearB
Him Fashion cannot tempt him abject NeedC
Cannot compel him Pride cannot misleadC
To be the slave of Greatness to strike sailD
When sweeping onward with her peacock's tailD
Quality in full plumage passes byE
He views her with a fix'd contemptuous eyeE
And mocks the puppet keeps his own due stateF
And is above conversing with the greatF
Perish those slaves those minions of the quillG
Who have conspired to seize that sacred hillG
Where the Nine Sisters pour a genuine strainH
And sunk the mountain level with the plainH
Who with mean private views and servile artI
No spark of virtue living in their heartI
Have basely turn'd apostates have debasedJ
Their dignity of office have disgracedJ
Like Eli's sons the altars where they standK
And caused their name to stink through all the landK
Have stoop'd to prostitute their venal penL
For the support of great but guilty menL
Have made the bard of their own vile accordM
Inferior to that thing we call a lordM
What is a lord Doth that plain simple wordN
Contain some magic spell As soon as heardN
Like an alarum bell on Night's dull earO
Doth it strike louder and more strong appearB
Than other words Whether we will or noP
Through Reason's court doth it unquestion'd goP
E'en on the mention and of course transmitQ
Notions of something excellent of witQ
Pleasing though keen of humour free though chasteJ
Of sterling genius with sound judgment gracedJ
Of virtue far above temptation's reachR
And honour which not malice can impeachR
Believe it not 'twas Nature's first intentS
Before their rank became their punishmentT
They should have pass'd for men nor blush'd to prizeU
The blessings she bestow'd she gave them eyesU
And they could see she gave them ears they heardN
The instruments of stirring and they stirr'dN
Like us they were design'd to eat to drinkV
To talk and every now and then to thinkV
Till they by Pride corrupted for the sakeW
Of singularity disclaim'd that makeW
Till they disdaining Nature's vulgar modeX
Flew off and struck into another roadX
More fitting Quality and to our viewY
Came forth a species altogether newY
Something we had not known and could not knowP
Like nothing of God's making here belowP
Nature exclaim'd with wonder 'Lords are thingsZ
Which never made by me were made by kings 'A2
A lord nor let the honest and the braveB2
The true old noble with the fool and knaveB2
Here mix his fame cursed be that thought of mineC2
Which with a B and E should Grafton joinD2
A lord nor here let Censure rashly callE2
My just contempt of some abuse of allE2
And as of late when Sodom was my themeF2
Slander my purpose and my Muse blasphemeF2
Because she stops not rapid in her songG2
To make exceptions as she goes alongG2
Though well she hopes to find another yearB
A whole minority exceptions hereO
A mere mere lord with nothing but the nameF2
Wealth all his worth and title all his fameF2
Lives on another man himself a blankH2
Thankless he lives or must some grandsire thankH2
For smuggled honours and ill gotten pelfB2
A bard owes all to Nature and himselfB2
Gods how my soul is burnt up with disdainH
When I see men whom Phoebus in his trainH
Might view with pride lackey the heels of thoseI2
Whom Genius ranks among her greatest foesI2
And what's the cause Why these same sons of ScornJ2
No thanks to them were to a title bornJ2
And could not help it by chance hither sentS
And only deities by accidentT
Had Fortune on our getting chanced to shineC2
Their birthright honours had been yours or mineC2
'Twas a mere random stroke and should the ThroneK2
Eye thee with favour proud and lordly grownK2
Thou though a bard might'st be their fellow yetL2
But Felix never can be made a witQ
No in good faith that's one of those few thingsZ
Which Fate hath placed beyond the reach of kingsZ
Bards may be lords but 'tis not in the cardsM2
Play how we will to turn lords into bardsM2
A bard a lord why let them hand in handK
Go forth as friends and travel through the landK
Observe which word the people can digestN2
Most readily which goes to market bestN2
Which gets most credit whether men will trustO2
A bard because they think he may be justO2
Or on a lord will chose to risk their gainsM2
Though privilege in that point still remainsM2
A bard a lord let Reason take her scalesM2
And fairly weigh those words see which prevailsM2
Which in the balance lightly kicks the beamF2
And which by sinking we the victor deemF2
'Tis done and Hermes by command of JoveB2
Summons a synod in the sacred groveB2
Gods throng with gods to take their chairs on highB2
And sit in state the senate of the skyB2
Whilst in a kind of parliament belowP
Men stare at those above and want to knowP
What they're transacting Reason takes her standK
Just in the midst a balance in her handK
Which o'er and o'er she tries and finds it trueY
From either side conducted full in viewY
A man comes forth of figure strange and queerB
We now and then see something like them hereO
The first was meagre flimsy void of strengthP2
But Nature kindly had made up in lengthP2
What she in breadth denied erect and proudQ2
A head and shoulders taller than the crowdQ2
He deem'd them pigmies all loose hung his skinR2
O'er his bare bones his face so very thinR2
So very narrow and so much beat outS2
That physiognomists have made a doubtS2
Proportion lost expression quite forgotT2
Whether it could be call'd a face or notT2
At end of it howe'er unbless'd with beardU2
Some twenty fathom length of chin appear'dU2
With legs which we might well conceive that FateF
Meant only to support a spider's weightF
Firmly he strove to tread and with a strideV2
Which show'd at once his weakness and his prideV2
Shaking himself to pieces seem'd to cryB2
'Observe good people how I shake the sky 'A2
In his right hand a paper did he holdW2
On which at large in characters of goldW2
Distinct and plain for those who run to seeM2
Saint Archibald had wrote L O R DM2
This with an air of scorn he from afarX2
Twirl'd into Reason's scales and on that barX2
Which from his soul he hated yet admiredN
Quick turn'd his back and as he came retiredY2
The judge to all around his name declaredZ2
Each goddess titter'd each god laugh'd Jove staredZ2
And the whole people cried with one accordM
'Good Heaven bless us all is that a Lord 'A2
Such was the first the second was a manA3
Whom Nature built on quite a different planA3
A bear whom from the moment he was bornJ2
His dam despised and left unlick'd in scornJ2
A Babel which the power of Art outdoneB3
She could not finish when she had begunB3
An utter Chaos out of which no mightC3
But that of God could strike one spark of lightC3
Broad were his shoulders and from blade to bladeD3
A H might at full length have laidD3
Vast were his bones his muscles twisted strongG2
His face was short but broader than 'twas longG2
His features though by Nature they were largeE3
Contentment had contrived to overchargeE3
And bury meaning save that we might spyB2
Sense lowering on the penthouse of his eyeB2
His arms were two twin oaks his legs so stoutS2
That they might bear a Mansion house aboutS2
Nor were they look but at his body thereF3
Design'd by Fate a much less weight to bearF3
O'er a brown cassock which had once been blackG3
Which hung in tatters on his brawny backG3
A sight most strange and awkward to beholdW2
He threw a covering of blue and goldW2
Just at that time of life when man by ruleH3
The fop laid down takes up the graver foolH3
He started up a fop and fond of showP
Look'd like another Hercules turn'd beauP
A subject met with only now and thenL
Much fitter for the pencil than the penL
Hogarth would drI3

Charles Churchill



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