The Bucolics Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis

Rhyme Scheme: ABACCDEFGGHHAIAJJ KLKLMNMN OPBPQRQR STTUVVWXXYPPZZA2A2ZB 2B2C2C2FJJ KD2KD2ZE2ZE2ZF2ZF2E2 E2Z G2H2G2H2

Ladies and gentlemen I take this opportunityA
To introduce myself and mention that much as we may deplore the fact we areB
essentially an agricultural communityA
Altho' in our metropolitan centres millions may live and toilC
Most of us directly or indirectly exist by thro' on and for the soilC
Our outlook is largely directed upon crops prices profits and 'The Main Chance 'D
So that we rarely discover time or opportunity to glanceE
At the fine arts and higher culture of this and older lands and gather untoF
ourselves the satisfaction such contemplation lendsG
Therefore our guides philosophers mentors leaders teachers and friendsG
Declare that amongst the toilers of our raceH
Such contemplation is utterly out of placeH
And altho' this may seem rather funnyA
One cannot definitely enjoy 'culchaw' unless one is now possessed ofI
leisure and moneyA
To encourage it in the Common People is a vain and profitless thingJ
Wherefore I singJ
-
The plough's in the furrowK
The cow's at the bailL
We delve and we burrowK
For nought may availL
Save toil thro' the seasonsM
Material joyN
These these be the reasonsM
For all our employN
-
The mute Mona LisaO
Praxiteles' artP
Such trifles as these areB
Things quite quite apartP
On on with life's battleQ
Wring sweat from the browR
What's culture to cattleQ
What's art to a cowR
-
To resume ladies and gentlemen the more comprehensible form of discourse IS
had temporarily forsakenT
Is it not possible that our mentors censors et al may be sadly mistakenT
Or stay is it conceivable that they would lock and bar our halls of art andU
culture at nightV
Lest the Common People mightV
By some strange chance absorb so much of the capacity for appreciation thatW
they would in time be able to patronise usX
Nay even to advise usX
On certain aesthetic matters which Perish the thought For who would haveY
the heartP
To vulgarise all ArtP
For consider how were it possible to feel superiorZ
When none remains any longer who as one comfortably recognises is inferiorZ
And so for evermoreA2
Bar bar and bolt the doorA2
Of our Temple which enshrines works for the edification only of superiorZ
mortalsB2
Lock lock and double lock those portalsB2
Hide from vulgar gaze the treasures that therein lurkC2
Except of course during those hours when the toilers are at workC2
Melbourne my Melbourne Never let the souls of thy earthbound people intoF
the rarer regions take wingJ
Wherefore again I singJ
-
The swine's in his wallowK
Fat porkers are primeD2
Then follow come followK
'Tis lamb tailin' timeD2
All golden the butterZ
There's market for meatE2
Tho' Mallee men mutterZ
Of smut in the wheatE2
But 'paintin'' and pitcher'Z
Franz Hals he was DutchF2
Ah who grows the richerZ
For gawping at suchF2
A 'pitcher' by CarotE2
A 'statcher' all 'nood'E2
One fills you with sorrowZ
The other is 'rood '-
We toil for men's bodiesG2
Our minds all a fogH2
What's paintin' to poddiesG2
What's art to a hogH2

Clarence Michael James Stanislaus Dennis



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