The Borough. Letter Iii: The Vicar--the Curate Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis

Rhyme Scheme: A BBCCDDEEFFGGHHIIJJKL MNOOPPQQRSTTBBKKNMUU VVQQHHWWLXQQYZA2 SRB2 OOC2C2D2D2RRE2E2F2F2 G2G2NMH2I2J2J2K2K2L2 L2M2M2N2N2K2 WWO2O2P2L2IIK2K2K2Q2 Q2R2S2T2T2U2U2V2 W2W2SSX2X2Y2Y2Z2Z2A3 B3C3C3D3D3E3E3RRF3 RRG3G3W K2 W2W2DDH3H3I3I3W2W2JJ J3J3K3K3W2W2RRL2L2RR L3 M3M3B3B3RRHHC3C3K2K2 RRN3

THE VICARA
-
WHERE ends our chancel in a vaulted spaceB
Sleep the departed Vicars of the placeB
Of most all mention memory thought are pastC
But take a slight memorial of the lastC
To what famed college we our Yicar oweD
To what fair county let historians showD
Few now remember when the mild young manE
Ruddy and fair his Sunday task beganE
Few live to speak of that soft soothing lookF
He cast around as he prepared his bookF
It was a kind of supplicating smileG
But nothing hopeless of applause the whileG
And when he finished his corrected prideH
Felt the desert and yet the praise deniedH
Thus he his race began and to the endI
His constant care was no man to offendI
No haughty virtues stirr'd his peaceful mindJ
Nor urged the Priest to leave the Flock behindJ
He was his Master's Soldier but not oneK
To lead an army of his Martyrs onL
Fear was his ruling passion yet was LoveM
Of timid kind once known his heart to moveN
It led his patient spirit where it paidO
Its languid offerings to a listening MaidO
She with her widow'd Mother heard him speakP
And sought awhile to find what he would seekP
Smiling he came he smiled when he withdrewQ
And paid the same attention to the twoQ
Meeting and parting without joy or painR
He seem'd to come that he might go againS
The wondering girl no prude but something niceT
At length was chill'd by his unmelting iceT
She found her tortoise held such sluggish paceB
That she must turn and meet him in the chaseB
This not approving she withdrew till oneK
Came who appear'd with livelier hope to runK
Who sought a readier way the heart to moveN
Than by faint dalliance of unfixing loveM
Accuse me not that I approving paintU
Impatient Hope or Love without restraintU
Or think the Passions a tumultuous throngV
Strong as they are ungovernably strongV
But is the laurel to the soldier dueQ
Who cautious comes not into danger's viewQ
What worth has Virtue by Desire untriedH
When Nature's self enlists on Duty's sideH
The married dame in vain assail'd the truthW
And guarded bosom of the Hebrew youthW
But with the daughter of the Priest of OnL
The love was lawful and the guard was goneX
But Joseph's fame had lessened in our viewQ
Had he refusing fled the maiden tooQ
Yet our good priest to Joseph's praise aspiredY
As once rejecting what his heart desiredZ
'I am escaped ' he said when none pursuedA2
When none attack'd him 'I am unsubdued '-
'Oh pleasing pangs of love ' he sang againS
Cold to the joy and stranger to the painR
E'en in his age would he address the youngB2
'I too have felt these fires and they are strong '-
But from the time he left his favourite maidO
To ancient females his devoirs were paidO
And still they miss him after Morning prayerC2
Nor yet successor fills the Vicar's chairC2
Where kindred spirits in his praise agreeD2
A happy few as mild and cool as heD2
The easy followers in the female trainR
Led without love and captives without chainR
Ye Lilies male think as your tea you sipE2
While the town small talk flows from lip to lipE2
Intrigues half gather'd conversation scrapsF2
Kitchen cabals and nursery mishapsF2
If the vast world may not some scene produceG2
Some state where your small talents might have useG2
Within seraglios you might harmless moveN
'Mid ranks of beauty and in haunts of loveM
There from too daring man the treasures guardH2
An easy duty and its own rewardI2
Nature's soft substitutes you there might saveJ2
From crime the tyrant and from wrong the slaveJ2
But let applause be dealt in all we mayK2
Our Priest was cheerful and in season gayK2
His frequent visits seldom fail'd to pleaseL2
Easy himself he sought his neighbour's easeL2
To a small garden with delight he cameM2
And gave successive flowers a summer's fameM2
These he presented with a grace his ownN2
To his fair friends and made their beauties knownN2
Not without moral compliment how theyK2
'Like flowers were sweet and must like flowers decay '-
Simple he was and loved the simple truthW
Yet had some useful cunning from his youthW
A cunning never to dishonour lentO2
And rather for defence than conquest meantO2
'Twas fear of power with some desire to riseP2
But not enough to make him enemiesL2
He ever aim'd to please and to offendI
Was ever cautious for he sought a friendI
Yet for the friendship never much would payK2
Content to bow be silent and obeyK2
And by a soothing suff'rance find his wayK2
Fiddling and fishing were his arts at timesQ2
He alter'd sermons and he aim'd at rhymesQ2
And his fair friends not yet intent on cardsR2
Oft he amused with riddles and charadesS2
Mild were his doctrines and not one discourseT2
But gain'd in softness what it lost in forceT2
Kind his opinions he would not receiveU2
An ill report nor evil act believeU2
'If true 'twas wrong but blemish great or smallV2
Have all mankind yea sinners are we all '-
If ever fretful thought disturb'd his breastW2
If aught of gloom that cheerful mind oppress'dW2
It sprang from innovation it was thenS
He spake of mischief made by restless menS
Not by new doctrines never in his lifeX2
Would he attend to controversial strifeX2
For sects he cared not ' They are not of usY2
Nor need we brethren their concerns discussY2
But 'tis the change the schism at home I feelZ2
Ills few perceive and none have skill to healZ2
Not at the altar our young brethren readA3
Facing their flock the decalogue and creedB3
But at their duty in their desks they standC3
With naked surplice lacking hood and bandC3
Churches are now of holy song bereftD3
And half our ancient customs changed or leftD3
Few sprigs of ivy are at Christmas seenE3
Nor crimson berry tips the holly's greenE3
Mistaken choirs refuse the solemn strainR
Of ancient Sternhold which from ours amainR
Comes flying forth from aisle to aisle aboutF3
Sweet links of harmony and long drawn out '-
These were to him essentials all things newR
He deemed superfluous useless or untrueR
To all beside indifferent easy coldG3
Here the fire kindled and the woe was toldG3
Habit with him was all the test of truthW
'It must be right I've done it from my youth '-
Questions he answer'd in as brief a wayK2
'It must be wrong it was of yesterday '-
Though mild benevolence our Priest possess'dW2
'Twas but by wishes or by words expressedW2
Circles in water as they wider flowD
The less conspicuous in their progress growD
And when at last they touch upon the shoreH3
Distinction ceases and they're view'd no moreH3
His love like that last circle all embracedI3
But with effect that never could be tracedI3
Now rests our Vicar They who knew him bestW2
Proclaim his life t'have been entirely restW2
Free from all evils which disturb his mindJ
Whom studies vex and controversies blindJ
The rich approved of them in awe he stoodJ3
The poor admired they all believed him goodJ3
The old and serious of his habits spokeK3
The frank and youthful loved his pleasant jokeK3
Mothers approved a safe contented guestW2
And daughters one who back'd each small requestW2
In him his flock found nothing to condemnR
Him sectaries liked he never troubled themR
No trifles fail'd his yielding mind to pleaseL2
And all his passions sunk in early easeL2
Nor one so old has left this world of sinR
More like the being that he entered inR
-
THE CURATEL3
-
ASK you what lands our Pastor tithes AlasM3
But few our acres and but short our grassM3
In some fat pastures of the rich indeedB3
May roll the single cow or favourite steedB3
Who stable fed is here for pleasure seenR
His sleek sides bathing in the dewy greenR
But these our hilly heath and common wideH
Yield a slight portion for the parish guideH
No crops luxuriant in our borders standC3
For here we plough the ocean not the landC3
Still reason wills that we our Pastor payK2
And custom does it on a certain dayK2
Much is the duty small the legal dueR
And this with grateful minds we keep in viewR
Each makes hisN3

George Crabbe



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