On The Late Queen's Death, And His Majesty's Accession To The Throne Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis

Rhyme Scheme: A A B CCAADDEEFFGGHHAABBAA IIJJKKAALLAADDMMNNBB AAOOPPQQRRBBLLBBBBSS GGAATTUUFFAAPPLLAAVV DDAAAAPPWXVVBBPPPPPP PPPPVVBBLLGGRYPPPPPP RRZZAAAAVVYYA2A2AABB HHMMAADDAAEEDDLLPPBB AAQQVVBBBBAAEEPPAAPP PPPPDDPPBBPPPPKK

Inscribed to Joseph Addison Esq Secretary to Their Excellencies the Lords JusticesA
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Gaudia curisA
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HORB
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Sir I have long and with impatience soughtC
To ease the fulness of my grateful thoughtC
My fame at once and duty to pursueA
And please the public by respect to youA
Though you long since beyond Britannia knownD
Have spread your country's glory with your ownD
To me you never did more lovely shineE
Than when so late the kindled wrath divineE
Quench'd our ambition in great Anna's fateF
And darken'd all the pomp of human stateF
Though you are rich in fame and fame decayG
Though rais'd in life and greatness fade awayG
Your lustre brightens virtue cuts the gloomH
With purer rays and sparkles near a tombH
Know sir the great esteem and honour dueA
I chose that moment to profess to youA
When sadness reign'd when fortune so severeB
Had warm'd our bosoms to be most sincereB
And when no motives could have force to raiseA
A serious value and provoke my praiseA
But such as rise above and far transcendI
Whatever glories with this world shall endI
Then shining forth when deepest shades shall blotJ
The sun's bright orb and Cato be forgotJ
I sing but ah my theme I need not tellK
See every eye with conscious sorrow swellK
Who now to verse would raise his humble voiceA
Can only show his duty not his choiceA
How great the weight of grief our hearts sustainL
We languish and to speak is to complainL
Let us look back for who too oft can viewA
That most illustrious scene for ever newA
See all the seasons shine on Anna's throneD
And pay a constant tribute not their ownD
Her summer's heats nor fruits alone bestowM
They reap the harvest and subdue the foeM
And when black storms confess the distant sunN
Her winters wear the wreaths her summers wonN
Revolving pleasures in their turns appearB
And triumphs are the product of the yearB
To crown the whole great joys in greater ceaseA
And glorious victory is lost in peaceA
Whence this profusion on our favour'd isleO
Did partial fortune on our virtue smileO
Or did the sceptre in great Anna's handP
Stretch forth this rich indulgence o'er our landP
Ungrateful Britain quit thy groundless claimQ
Thy queen and thy good fortune are the sameQ
Hear with alarms our trumpets fill the skyR
'Tis Anna reigns the Gallic squadrons flyR
We spread our canvass to the southern shoreB
'Tis Anna reigns the south resigns her storeB
Her virtue smooths the tumult of the mainL
And swells the field with mountains of the slainL
Argyll and Churchill but the glory shareB
While millions lie subdu'd by Anna's prayerB
How great her zeal how fervent her desireB
How did her soul in holy warmth expireB
Constant devotion did her time divideS
Not set returns of pleasure or of prideS
Not want of rest or the sun's parting rayG
But finish'd duty limited the dayG
How sweet succeeding sleep what lovely themesA
Smil'd in her thoughts and soften'd all her dreamsA
Her royal couch descending angels spreadT
And join'd their wings a shelter o'er her headT
Though Europe's wealth and glory claim'd a partU
Religion's cause reign'd mistress of her heartU
She saw and griev'd to see the mean estateF
Of those who round the hallow'd altar waitF
She shed her bounty piously profuseA
And thought it more her own in sacred useA
Thus on his furrow see the tiller standP
And fill with genial seed his lavish handP
He trusts the kindness of the fruitful plainL
And providently scatters all his grainL
What strikes my sight does proud Augusta riseA
New to behold and awfully surpriseA
Her lofty brow more numerous turrets crownV
And sacred domes on palaces look downV
A noble pride of piety is shownD
And temples cast a lustre on the throneD
How would this work another's glory raiseA
But Anna's greatness robs her of the praiseA
Drown'd in a brighter blaze it disappearsA
Who dried the widow's and the orphan's tearsA
Who stoop'd from high to succour the distrestP
And reconcile the wounded heart to restP
Great in her goodness well could we perceiveW
Whoever sought it was a queen that gaveX
Misfortune lost her name her guiltless frownV
But made another debtor to the crownV
And each unfriendly stroke from fate we boreB
Became our title to the regal storeB
Thus injur'd trees adopt a foreign shootP
And their wounds blossom with a fairer fruitP
Ye numbers who on your misfortunes thriv'dP
When first the dreadful blast of fame arriv'dP
Say what a shock what agonies you feltP
How did your souls with tender anguish meltP
That grief which living Anna's love suppress'dP
Shook like a tempest every grateful breastP
A second fate our sinking fortunes triedP
A second time our tender parents diedP
Heroes returning from the field we crownV
And deify the haughty victor's frownV
His splendid wealth too rashly we admireB
Catch the disease and burn with equal fireB
Wisely to spend is the great art of gainL
And one reliev'd transcends a million slainL
When time shall ask where once Ramillia layG
Or Danube flow'd that swept whole troops awayG
One drop of water that refresh'd the dryR
Shall rise a fountain of eternal joyY
But ah to that unknown and distant dateP
Is virtue's great reward push'd off by fateP
Here random shafts in every breast are foundP
Virtue and merit but provoke the woundP
August in native worth and regal stateP
Anna sate arbitress of Europe's fateP
To distant realms did every accent flyR
And nations watch'd each motion of her eyeR
Silent nor longer awful to be seenZ
How small a spot contains the mighty queenZ
No throng of suppliant princes mark the placeA
Where Britain's greatness is compos'd in peaceA
The broken earth is scarce discern'd to riseA
And a stone tells us where the monarch liesA
Thus end maturest honours of the crownV
This is the last conclusion of renownV
So when with idle skill the wanton boyY
Breathes through his tube he sees with eager joyY
The trembling bubble in its rising smallA2
And by degrees expands the glittering ballA2
But when to full perfection blown it fliesA
High in the air and shines in various dyesA
The little monarch with a falling tearB
Sees his world burst at once and disappearB
'Tis not in sorrow to reverse our doomH
No groans unlock th' inexorable tombH
Why then this fond indulgence of our woeM
What fruit can rise or what advantage flowM
Yes this advantage from our deep distressA
We learn how much in George the gods can blessA
Had a less glorious princess left the throneD
But half the hero had at first been shownD
An Anna falling all the king employsA
To vindicate from guilt our rising joysA
Our joys arise and innocently shineE
Auspicious monarch what a praise is thineE
Welcome great stranger to Britannia's throneD
Nor let thy country think thee all her ownD
Of thy delay how oft did we complainL
Our hopes reach'd out and met thee on the mainL
With prayer we smooth the billows for thy fleetP
With ardent wishes fill thy swelling sheetP
And when thy foot took place on Albion's shoreB
We bending bless'd the gods and ask'd no moreB
What hand but thine should conquer and composeA
Join those whom interest joins and chase our foesA
Repel the daring youth's presumptuous aimQ
And by his rival's greatness give him fameQ
Now in some foreign court he may sit downV
And quit without a blush the British crownV
Secure his honour though he lose his storeB
And take a lucky moment to be poorB
Nor think great sir now first at this late hourB
In Britain's favour you exert your powerB
To us far back in time I joy to traceA
The numerous tokens of your princely graceA
Whether you chose to thunder on the RhineE
Inspire grave councils or in courts to shineE
In the more scenes your genius was display'dP
The greater debt was on Britannia laidP
They all conspir'd this mighty man to raiseA
And your new subjects proudly share the praiseA
All share but may not we have leave to boastP
That we contemplate and enjoy it mostP
This ancient nurse of arts indulged by fateP
On gentle Isis' bank a calm retreatP
For many roiling ages justly fam'dP
Has through the world her loyalty proclaim'dP
And often pour'd too well the truth is knownD
Her blood and treasure to support the throneD
For England's church her latest accents strain'dP
And freedom with his dying hand retain'dP
No wonder then her various ranks agreeB
In all the fervencies of zeal for theeB
What though thy birth a distant kingdom boastP
And seas divide thee from the British coastP
The crown's impatient to enclose thy headP
Why stay thy feet the cloth of gold is spreadP
Our strict obedience through the world shall tellK
That king's a Briton who can govern wellK

Edward Young



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