The Apology Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis

Rhyme Scheme: A B CCDDEEFFGGHHIIJJKKLL MMNNOOPPHHQQRRMMHHSS TTUUVVWXYYZZCCQQOOA2 A2TTZZB2B2C2C2UUD2D2 TTE2E2F2G2IIH2H2TTI2 I2J2K2TTZZA2A2L2L2IM 2N2N2N2TTO2O2SP2A2A2 TTF2F2KKUUH2H2CCQQI2 I2TTQ2Q2O2O2R2R2TTS2 OOT2T2TTU2U2V2V2YYC2 C2W2I2X2X2O2O2QQPPKK Y2Y2IIKKMMTTZ2Z2Y2Y2 C2C2A3B3

ADDRESSED TO THE CRITICAL REVIEWERSA
-
Tristitiam et Metus HORACEB
-
Laughs not the heart when giants big with prideC
Assume the pompous port the martial strideC
O'er arm Herculean heave the enormous shieldD
Vast as a weaver's beam the javelin wieldD
With the loud voice of thundering Jove defyE
And dare to single combat what A flyE
And laugh we less when giant names which shineF
Establish'd as it were by right divineF
Critics whom every captive art adoresG
To whom glad Science pours forth all her storesG
Who high in letter'd reputation sitH
And hold Astraea like the scales of witH
With partial rage rush forth oh shame to tellI
To crush a bard just bursting from the shellI
Great are his perils in this stormy timeJ
Who rashly ventures on a sea of rhymeJ
Around vast surges roll winds envious blowK
And jealous rocks and quicksands lurk belowK
Greatly his foes he dreads but more his friendsL
He hurts me most who lavishly commendsL
Look through the world in every other tradeM
The same employment's cause of kindness madeM
At least appearance of good will createsN
And every fool puffs off the fool he hatesN
Cobblers with cobblers smoke away the nightO
And in the common cause e'en players uniteO
Authors alone with more than savage rageP
Unnatural war with brother authors wageP
The pride of Nature would as soon admitH
Competitors in empire as in witH
Onward they rush at Fame's imperious callQ
And less than greatest would not be at allQ
Smit with the love of honour or the penceR
O'errun with wit and destitute of senseR
Should any novice in the rhyming tradeM
With lawless pen the realms of verse invadeM
Forth from the court where sceptred sages sitH
Abused with praise and flatter'd into witH
Where in lethargic majesty they reignS
And what they won by dulness still maintainS
Legions of factious authors throng at onceT
Fool beckons fool and dunce awakens dunceT
To 'Hamilton's the ready lies repairU
Ne'er was lie made which was not welcome thereU
Thence on maturer judgment's anvil wroughtV
The polish'd falsehood's into public broughtV
Quick circulating slanders mirth affordW
And reputation bleeds in every wordX
A critic was of old a glorious nameY
Whose sanction handed merit up to fameY
Beauties as well as faults he brought to viewZ
His judgment great and great his candour tooZ
No servile rules drew sickly taste asideC
Secure he walk'd for Nature was his guideC
But now oh strange reverse our critics bawlQ
In praise of candour with a heart of gallQ
Conscious of guilt and fearful of the lightO
They lurk enshrouded in the vale of nightO
Safe from detection seize the unwary preyA2
And stab like bravoes all who come that wayA2
When first my Muse perhaps more bold than wiseT
Bade the rude trifle into light ariseT
Little she thought such tempests would ensueZ
Less that those tempests would be raised by youZ
The thunder's fury rends the towering oakB2
Rosciads like shrubs might 'scape the fatal strokeB2
Vain thought a critic's fury knows no boundC2
Drawcansir like he deals destruction roundC2
Nor can we hope he will a stranger spareU
Who gives no quarter to his friend VoltaireU
Unhappy Genius placed by partial FateD2
With a free spirit in a slavish stateD2
Where the reluctant Muse oppress'd by kingsT
Or droops in silence or in fetters singsT
In vain thy dauntless fortitude hath borneE2
The bigot's furious zeal and tyrant's scornE2
Why didst thou safe from home bred dangers steerF2
Reserved to perish more ignobly hereG2
Thus when the Julian tyrant's pride to swellI
Rome with her Pompey at Pharsalia fellI
The vanquish'd chief escaped from Caesar's handH2
To die by ruffians in a foreign landH2
How could these self elected monarchs raiseT
So large an empire on so small a baseT
In what retreat inglorious and unknownI2
Did Genius sleep when Dulness seized the throneI2
Whence absolute now grown and free from aweJ2
She to the subject world dispenses lawK2
Without her licence not a letter stirsT
And all the captive criss cross row is hersT
The Stagyrite who rules from Nature drewZ
Opinions gave but gave his reasons tooZ
Our great Dictators take a shorter wayA2
Who shall dispute what the Reviewers sayA2
Their word's sufficient and to ask a reasonL2
In such a state as theirs is downright treasonL2
True judgment now with them alone can dwellI
Like Church of Rome they're grown infallibleM2
Dull superstitious readers they deceiveN2
Who pin their easy faith on critic's sleeveN2
And knowing nothing everything believeN2
But why repine we that these puny elvesT
Shoot into giants we may thank ourselvesT
Fools that we are like Israel's fools of yoreO2
The calf ourselves have fashion'd we adoreO2
But let true Reason once resume her reignS
This god shall dwindle to a calf againP2
Founded on arts which shun the face of dayA2
By the same arts they still maintain their swayA2
Wrapp'd in mysterious secrecy they riseT
And as they are unknown are safe and wiseT
At whomsoever aim'd howe'er severeF2
The envenom'd slander flies no names appearF2
Prudence forbids that step then all might knowK
And on more equal terms engage the foeK
But now what Quixote of the age would careU
To wage a war with dirt and fight with airU
By interest join'd the expert confederates standH2
And play the game into each other's handH2
The vile abuse in turn by all deniedC
Is bandied up and down from side to sideC
It flies hey presto like a juggler's ballQ
Till it belongs to nobody at allQ
All men and things they know themselves unknownI2
And publish every name except their ownI2
Nor think this strange secure from vulgar eyesT
The nameless author passes in disguiseT
But veteran critics are not so deceivedQ2
If veteran critics are to be believedQ2
Once seen they know an author evermoreO2
Nay swear to hands they never saw beforeO2
Thus in 'The Rosciad ' beyond chance or doubtR2
They by the writing found the writers outR2
That's Lloyd's his manner there you plainly traceT
And all the Actor stares you in the faceT
By Colman that was written on my lifeS2
The strongest symptoms of the 'Jealous Wife '-
That little disingenuous piece of spiteO
Churchill a wretch unknown perhaps might writeO
How doth it make judicious readers smileT2
When authors are detected by their styleT2
Though every one who knows this author knowsT
He shifts his style much oftener than his clothesT
Whence could arise this mighty critic spleenU2
The Muse a trifler and her theme so meanU2
What had I done that angry Heaven should sendV2
The bitterest foe where most I wish'd a friendV2
Oft hath my tongue been wanton at thy nameY
And hail'd the honours of thy matchless fameY
For me let hoary Fielding bite the groundC2
So nobler Pickle stands superbly boundC2
From Livy's temples tear the historic crownW2
Which with more justice blooms upon thine ownI2
Compared with thee be all life writers dumbX2
But he who wrote the Life of Tommy ThumbX2
Who ever read 'The Regicide ' but sworeO2
The author wrote as man ne'er wrote beforeO2
Others for plots and under plots may callQ
Here's the right method have no plot at allQ
Who can so often in his cause engageP
The tiny pathos of the Grecian stageP
Whilst horrors rise and tears spontaneous flowK
At tragic Ha and no less tragic OhK
To praise his nervous weakness all agreeY2
And then for sweetness who so sweet as heY2
Too big for utterance when sorrows swellI
The too big sorrows flowing tears must tellI
But when those flowing tears shall cease to flowK
Why then the voice must speak again you knowK
Rude and unskilful in the poet's tradeM
I kept no Naiads by me ready madeM
Ne'er did I colours high in air advanceT
Torn from the bleeding fopperies of FranceT
No flimsy linsey woolsey scenes I wroteZ2
With patches here and there like Joseph's coatZ2
Me humbler themes befit secure for meY2
Let play wrights smuggle nonsense duty freeY2
Secure for me ye lambs ye lambkins boundC2
And frisk and frolic o'er the fairy groundC2
Secure for me thou pretty little fawnA3
Lick Sylvia's hand and crop theB3

Charles Churchill



Rate:
(1)



Poem topics: , Print This Poem , Rhyme Scheme

Submit Spanish Translation
Submit German Translation
Submit French Translation


Write your comment about The Apology poem by Charles Churchill


 

Recent Interactions*

This poem was read 0 times,

This poem was added to the favorite list by 0 members,

This poem was voted by 0 members.

(* Interactions only in the last 7 days)

New Poems

Popular Poets