The Censor Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis
Rhyme Scheme: ABCBDDCEFEGC BHIJKK LMNMOL PQLQDD LLRLLLCCLCDD SLLLLLITLTUU| The Censor sits behind his desk | A |
| And smiles a censored smile | B |
| His great blue pencil hovers o'er | C |
| Some masterpiece awhile | B |
| Then swoops oh child of whose poor ravished brain | D |
| Coldly another innnocent is slain | D |
| The Censor is a murderer | C |
| None knows his secret lair | E |
| Nor all the dark and awful deeds | F |
| He does in ambush there | E |
| No eye has seen his charnel house it's floor | G |
| With literary corpses littered o'er | C |
| - | |
| The Censor is a crocodile | B |
| Beneath that slimy flood | H |
| The Waters of Oblivion | I |
| He seeks his livelihood | J |
| His gloating eye marks children of my pen | K |
| He draws them under from the sight of men | K |
| - | |
| The Censor is a nibbling mouse | L |
| The fair cheese of my mind | M |
| He rifles till there's nothing left | N |
| But atmosphere and rind | M |
| That fair round cheese formed lovingly by me | O |
| From milk of thought and curds of poesy | L |
| - | |
| The Censor is an elephant | P |
| With large ungainly feet | Q |
| He dances on the glad green fields | L |
| I sowed in toil and heat | Q |
| Till all the fairest flow'rs of thought are slain | D |
| And only unaesthetic weeds remain | D |
| - | |
| The Censor is the Fiend of Storms | L |
| Upon the Inky Sea | L |
| In fear my poor frail craft I launch | R |
| Then with unholy glee | L |
| He makes the winds tear howling through the shrouds | L |
| And sends fork'd death and shipwreck from the clouds | L |
| The Censor is a sorceror | C |
| Above rare fruits that grow | C |
| Upon the tree of genius | L |
| His hand waves to and fro | C |
| Hey Presto And their lusciousness is slain | D |
| Apples of Sodom Dead Sea Fruit remain | D |
| - | |
| The Censor is a hooded snake | S |
| That lurks within the grass | L |
| And rears to sink his poison fangs | L |
| In heedless babes that pass | L |
| Dear Children of my brain wee tender things | L |
| That sink and swoon and perish when he stings | L |
| And still he is a gentleman | I |
| This much I will admit | T |
| In 'Correspondence Columns' he | L |
| Seeks not to air his wit | T |
| On shrinking backs he lays no caustic stripe | U |
| Nor stoops to call our Masterpieces 'tripe' | U |
Clarence Michael James Stanislaus Dennis
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