The Parish Register - Part I: Baptisms Poem Rhyme Scheme

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The year revolves and I again explore	A
The simple Annals of my Parish poor	B
What Infant members in my flock appear	C
What Pairs I bless'd in the departed year	C
And who of Old or Young or Nymphs or Swains	D
Are lost to Life its pleasures and its pains	D
No Muse I ask before my view to bring	E
The humble actions of the swains I sing	E
How pass'd the youthful how the old their days	D
Who sank in sloth and who aspired to praise	D
Their tempers manners morals customs arts	D
What parts they had and how they 'mploy'd their	F
	-
parts	D
By what elated soothed seduced depress'd	G
Full well I know these Records give the rest	G
Is there a place save one the poet sees	D
A land of love of liberty and ease	D
Where labour wearies not nor cares suppress	D
Th' eternal flow of rustic happiness	D
Where no proud mansion frowns in awful state	H
Or keeps the sunshine from the cottage gate	H
Where young and old intent on pleasure throng	I
And half man's life is holiday and song	I
Vain search for scenes like these no view appears	D
By sighs unruffled or unstain'd by tears	D
Since vice the world subdued and waters drown'd	J
Auburn and Eden can no more be found	J
Hence good and evil mixed but man has skill	K
And power to part them when he feels the will	K
Toil care and patience bless th' abstemious few	L
Fear shame and want the thoughtless herd pursue	L
Behold the Cot where thrives th' industrious	D
	-
swain	M
Source of his pride his pleasure and his gain	M
Screen'd from the winter's wind the sun's last ray	N
Smiles on the window and prolongs the day	N
Projecting thatch the woodbine's branches stop	O
And turn their blossoms to the casement's top	O
All need requires is in that cot contain'd	P
And much that taste untaught and unrestrain'd	P
Surveys delighted there she loves to trace	D
In one gay picture all the royal race	D
Around the walls are heroes lovers kings	D
The print that shows them and the verse that sings	D
Here the last Louis on his throne is seen	Q
And there he stands imprison'd and his Queen	Q
To these the mother takes her child and shows	D
What grateful duty to his God he owes	D
Who gives to him a happy home where he	R
Lives and enjoys his freedom with the free	R
When kings and queens dethroned insulted tried	S
Are all these blessings of the poor denied	S
There is King Charles and all his Golden Rules	D
Who proved Misfortune's was the best of schools	D
And there his Son who tried by years of pain	M
Proved that misfortunes may be sent in vain	M
The Magic mill that grinds the gran'nams young	T
Close at the side of kind Godiva hung	T
She of her favourite place the pride and joy	U
Of charms at once most lavish and most coy	U
By wanton act the purest fame could raise	D
And give the boldest deed the chastest praise	D
There stands the stoutest Ox in England fed	V
There fights the boldest Jew Whitechapel bred	V
And here Saint Monday's worthy votaries live	W
In all the joys that ale and skittles give	X
Now lo on Egypt's coast that hostile fleet	Y
By nations dreaded and by NELSON beat	Y
And here shall soon another triumph come	Z
A deed of glory in a deed of gloom	A2
Distressing glory grievous boon of fate	H
The proudest conquest at the dearest rate	H
On shelf of deal beside the cuckoo clock	B2
Of cottage reading rests the chosen stock	B2
Learning we lack not books but have a kind	C2
For all our wants a meat for every mind	C2
The tale for wonder and the joke for whim	D2
The half sung sermon and the half groan'd hymn	D2
No need of classing each within its place	D
The feeling finger in the dark can trace	D
'First from the corner farthest from the wall '	-
Such all the rules and they suffice for all	E2
There pious works for Sunday's use are found	J
Companions for that Bible newly bound	J
That Bible bought by sixpence weekly saved	F2
Has choicest prints by famous hands engraved	F2
Has choicest notes by many a famous head	V
Such as to doubt have rustic readers led	V
Have made them stop to reason WHY and HOW	G2
And where they once agreed to cavil now	G2
Oh rather give me commentators plain	M
Who with no deep researches vex the brain	M
Who from the dark and doubtful love to run	H2
And hold their glimmering tapers to the sun	H2
Who simple truth with nine fold reasons back	I2
And guard the point no enemies attack	I2
Bunyan's famed Pilgrim rests that shelf upon	J2
A genius rare but rude was honest John	J2
Not one who early by the Muse beguiled	K2
Drank from her well the waters undefiled	K2
Not one who slowly gained the hill sublime	L2
Then often sipp'd and little at a time	L2
But one who dabbled in the sacred springs	D
And drank them muddy mix'd with baser things	D
Here to interpret dreams we read the rules	D
Science our own and never taught in schools	D
In moles and specks we Fortune's gifts discern	M2
And Fate's fix'd will from Nature's wanderings	D
	-
learn	M2
Of Hermit Quarll we read in island rare	F
Far from mankind and seeming far from care	F
Safe from all want and sound in every limb	D2
Yes there was he and there was care with him	D2
Unbound and heap'd these valued tomes beside	K2
Lay humbler works the pedlar's pack supplied	K2
Yet these long since have all acquired a name	N2
The Wandering Jew has found his way to fame	N2
And fame denied to many a labour'd song	I
Crowns Thumb the Great and Hickathrift the strong	I
There too is he by wizard power upheld	K2
Jack by whose arm the giant brood were quell'd	K2
His shoes of swiftness on his feet he placed	K2
His coat of darkness on his loins he braced	K2
His sword of sharpness in his hand he took	O2
And off the heads of doughty giants stroke	P2
Their glaring eyes beheld no mortal near	C
No sound of feet alarm'd the drowsy ear	Q2
No English blood their Pagan sense could smell	R2
But heads dropt headlong wondering why they fell	R2
These are the Peasant's joy when placed at	K2
	-
ease	D
Half his delighted offspring mount his knees	D
To every cot the lord's indulgent mind	K2
Has a small space for garden ground assign'd	K2
Here till return of morn dismiss'd the farm	S2
The careful peasant plies the sinewy arm	S2
Warm'd as he works and casts his look around	K2
On every foot of that improving ground	K2
It is his own he sees his master's eye	T2
Peers not about some secret fault to spy	T2
Nor voice severe is there nor censure known	U2
Hope profit pleasure they are all his own	U2
Here grow the humble cives and hard by them	V2
The leek with crown globose and reedy stem	V2
High climb his pulse in many an even row	W2
Deep strike the ponderous roots in soil below	W2
And herbs of potent smell and pungent taste	K2
Give a warm relish to the night's repast	K2
Apples and cherries grafted by his hand	K2
And cluster'd nuts for neighbouring market stand	K2
Nor thus concludes his labour near the cot	K2
The reed fence rises round some fav'rite spot	K2
Where rich carnations pinks with purple eyes	D
Proud hyacinths the least some florist's prize	D
Tulips tall stemm'd and pounced auriculas rise	D
Here on a Sunday eve when service ends	D
Meet and rejoice a family of friends	D
All speak aloud are happy and are free	R
And glad they seem and gaily they agree	R
What though fastidious ears may shun the speech	X2
Where all are talkers and where none can teach	X2
Where still the welcome and the words are old	K2
And the same stories are for ever told	K2
Yet theirs is joy that bursting from the heart	K2
Prompts the glad tongue these nothings to impart	K2
That forms these tones of gladness we despise	D
That lifts their steps that sparkles in their	F
	-
eyes	D
That talks or laughs or runs or shouts or plays	D
And speaks in all their looks and all their ways	D
Fair scenes of peace ye might detain us long	I
But vice and misery now demand the song	I
And turn our view from dwellings simply neat	K2
To this infected Row we term our Street	K2
Here in cabal a disputatious crew	L
Each evening meet the sot the cheat the shrew	L
Riots are nightly heard the curse the cries	D
Of beaten wife perverse in her replies	D
While shrieking children hold each threat'ning	E
	-
hand	K2
And sometimes life and sometimes food demand	K2
Boys in their first stol'n rags to swear begin	Y2
And girls who heed not dress are skill'd in gin	Y2
Snarers and sm	V2

George Crabbe

The Parish Register - Part I: Baptisms Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis

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