The Borough. Letter Xxiv: Schools Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis

Rhyme Scheme: AABBCCDDEEDDFFGGHHIJ DDKKLLMMNNOOAAPPNNII QL QRRRRSSKKAADDRRTTU RRVVWWXXR RRJJYYZZDDA2A2B2B2RR C2C2RRXXAARRBBRRD2E2 D2EERR RRF2 F2F2G2G2F2F2RRRRH2I2 F2F2F2F2RRF2F2F2F2J2 J2K2K2YYYF2 F2RRYL2K2K2F2F2F2F2M 2M2RRN2N2RRO2O2RRP2P 2OOF2F2RRF2F2Q2Q2F2F 2F2F2F2R2R2C2R

To every class we have a School assign'dA
Rules for all ranks and food for every mindA
Yet one there is that small regard to ruleB
Or study pays and still is deem'd a SchoolB
That where a deaf poor patient widow sitsC
And awes some thirty infants as she knitsC
Infants of humble busy wives who payD
Some trifling price for freedom through the dayD
At this good matron's hut the children meetE
Who thus becomes the mother of the streetE
Her room is small they cannot widely strayD
Her threshold high they cannot run awayD
Though deaf she sees the rebel heroes shoutF
Though lame her white rod nimbly walks aboutF
With band of yarn she keeps offenders inG
And to her gown the sturdiest rogue can pinG
Aided by these and spells and tell tale birdsH
Her power they dread and reverence her wordsH
To Learning's second seats we now proceedI
Where humming students gilded primers readJ
Or books with letters large and pictures gayD
To make their reading but a kind of playD
'Reading made easy ' so the titles tellK
But they who read must first begin to spellK
There may be profit in these arts but stillL
Learning is labour call it what you willL
Upon the youthful mind a heavy loadM
Nor must we hope to find the royal roadM
Some will their easy steps to science showN
And some to heav'n itself their by way knowN
Ah trust them not who fame or bliss would shareO
Must learn by labour and must live by careO
Another matron of superior kindA
For higher schools prepares the rising mindA
Preparatory she her Learning callsP
The step first made to colleges and hallsP
She early sees to what the mind will growN
Nor abler judge of infant powers I knowN
She sees what soon the lively will impedeI
And how the steadier will in turn succeedI
Observes the dawn of wisdom fancy tasteQ
And knows what parts will wear and what willL
-
wasteQ
She marks the mind too lively and at onceR
Sees the gay coxcomb and the rattling dunceR
Long has she lived and much she loves to traceR
Her former pupils now a lordly raceR
Whom when she sees rich robes and furs bedeckS
She marks the pride which once she strove to checkS
A Burgess comes and she remembers wellK
How hard her task to make his worship spellK
Cold selfish dull inanimate unkindA
'Twas but by anger he display'd a mindA
Now civil smiling complaisant and gayD
The world has worn th' unsocial crust awayD
That sullen spirit now a softness wearsR
And save by fits e'en dulness disappearsR
But still the matron can the man beholdT
Dull selfish hard inanimate and coldT
A Merchant passes 'Probity and truthU
Prudence and patience mark'd thee from thy youth '-
Thus she observes but oft retains her fearsR
For him who now with name unstain'd appearsR
Nor hope relinquishes for one who yetV
Is lost in error and involved in debtV
For latent evil in that heart she foundW
More open here but here the core was soundW
Various our Day Schools here behold we oneX
Empty and still the morning duties doneX
Soil'd tatter'd worn and thrown in variousR
-
heapsR
Appear their books and there confusion sleepsR
The workmen all are from the Babel fledJ
And lost their tools till the return they dreadJ
Meantime the master with his wig awryY
Prepares his books for business by and byY
Now all th' insignia of the monarch laidZ
Beside him rest and none stand by afraidZ
He while his troop light hearted leap and playD
Is all intent on duties of the dayD
No more the tyrant stern or judge severeA2
He feels the father's and the husband's fearA2
Ah little think the timid trembling crowdB2
That one so wise so powerful and so proudB2
Should feel himself and dread the humble illsR
Of rent day charges and of coalman's billsR
That while they mercy from their judge imploreC2
He fears himself a knocking at the doorC2
And feels the burthen as his neighbour statesR
His humble portion to the parish ratesR
They sit th' alloted hours then eager runX
Rushing to pleasure when the duty's doneX
His hour of leisure is of different kindA
Then cares domestic rush upon his mindA
And half the ease and comfort he enjoysR
Is when surrounded by slates books and boysR
Poor Reuben Dixon has the noisiest schoolB
Of ragged lads who ever bow'd to ruleB
Low in his price the men who heave our coalsR
And clean our causeways send him boys in shoalsR
To see poor Reuben with his fry besideD2
Their half check'd rudeness and his half scorn'dE2
-
prideD2
Their room the sty in which th' assembly meetE
In the close lane behind the Northgate streetE
T'observe his vain attempts to keep the peaceR
Till tolls the bell and strife and troubles ceaseR
-
-
Calls for our praise his labour praise deservesR
But not our pity Reuben has no nervesR
'Mid noise and dirt and stench and play andF2
-
prateF2
He calmly cuts the pen or views the slateF2
But Leonard yes for Leonard's fate I grieveG2
Who loaths the station which he dares not leaveG2
He cannot dig he will not beg his breadF2
All his dependence rests upon his headF2
And deeply skill'd in sciences and artsR
On vulgar lads he wastes superior partsR
Alas what grief that feeling mind sustainsR
In guiding hands and stirring torpid brainsR
He whose proud mind from pole to pole will moveH2
And view the wonders of the worlds aboveI2
Who thinks and reasons strongly hard his fateF2
Confined for ever to the pen and slateF2
True he submits and when the long dull dayF2
Has slowly pass'd in weary tasks awayF2
To other worlds with cheerful view he looksR
And parts the night between repose and booksR
Amid his labours he has sometimes triedF2
To turn a little from his cares asideF2
Pope Milton Dryden with delight has seizedF2
His soul engaged and of his trouble easedF2
When with a heavy eye and ill done sumJ2
No part conceived a stupid boy will comeJ2
Then Leonard first subdues the rising frownK2
And bids the blockhead lay his blunders downK2
O'er which disgusted he will turn his eyeY
To his sad duty his sound mind applyY
And vex'd in spirit throw his pleasures byY
Turn we to Schools which more than these affordF2
-
-
The sound instruction and the wholesome boardF2
And first our School for Ladies pity callsR
For one soft sigh when we behold these wallsR
Placed near the town and where from window highY
The fair confined may our free crowds espyL2
With many a stranger gazing up and downK2
And all the envied tumult of the townK2
May in the smiling summer eve when theyF2
Are sent to sleep the pleasant hours awayF2
Behold the poor whom they conceive the bless'dF2
Employ'd for hours and grieved they cannot restF2
Here the fond girl whose days are sad and fewM2
Since dear mamma pronounced the last adieuM2
Looks to the road and fondly thinks she hearsR
The carriage wheels and struggles with her tearsR
All yet is new the misses great and smallN2
Madam herself and teachers odious allN2
From laughter pity nay command she turnsR
But melts in softness or with anger burnsR
Nauseates her food and wonders who can sleepO2
On such mean beds where she can only weepO2
She scorns condolence but to all she hatesR
Slowly at length her mind accommodatesR
Then looks on bondage with the same concernP2
As others felt and finds that she must learnP2
As others learn'd the common lot to shareO
To search for comfort and submit to careO
There are 'tis said who on these seats attendF2
And to these ductile minds destruction vendF2
Wretches to virtue peace and nature foesR
To these soft minds their wicked trash exposeR
Seize on the soul ere passions take the swayF2
And lead the heart ere yet it feels astrayF2
Smugglers obscene and can there be who takeQ2
Infernal pains the sleeping vice to wakeQ2
Can there be those by whom the thought defiledF2
Enters the spotless bosom of a childF2
By whom the ill is to the heart conveyedF2
Who lend the foe not yet in arms their aidF2
And sap the city walls before the siege be laidF2
Oh rather skulking in the by ways stealR2
And rob the poorest traveller of his mealR2
Burst through the humblest trader's bolted doorC2
Bear from the widow's hut her winter sR

George Crabbe



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