The Village: Book I Poem Rhyme Scheme

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The Village Life and every care that reigns	A
O'er youthful peasants and declining swains	A
What labour yields and what that labour past	B
Age in its hour of languor finds at last	B
What form the real picture of the poor	C
Demand a song the Muse can give no more	D
	-
Fled are those times when in harmonious strains	A
The rustic poet praised his native plains	A
No shepherds now in smooth alternate verse	A
Their country's beauty or their nymphs' rehearse	A
Yet still for these we frame the tender strain	E
Still in our lays fond Corydons complain	E
And shepherds' boys their amorous pains reveal	F
The only pains alas they never feel	F
	-
On Mincio's banks in Caesar's bounteous reign	E
If Tityrus found the Golden Age again	G
Must sleepy bards the flattering dream prolong	H
Mechanic echoes of the Mantuan song	H
From Truth and Nature shall we widely stray	I
Where Virgil not where Fancy leads the way	I
	-
Yes thus the Muses sing of happy swains	A
Because the Muses never knew their pains	A
They boast their peasants' pipes but peasants now	J
Resign their pipes and plod behind the plough	J
And few amid the rural tribe have time	K
To number syllables and play with rhyme	K
Save honest Duck what son of verse could share	L
The poet's rapture and the peasant's care	L
Or the great labours of the field degrade	M
With the new peril of a poorer trade	M
	-
From this chief cause these idle praises spring	N
That themes so easy few forbear to sing	N
For no deep thought the trifling subjects ask	O
To sing of shepherds is an easy task	O
The happy youth assumes the common strain	E
A nymph his mistress and himself a swain	E
With no sad scenes he clouds his tuneful prayer	L
But all to look like her is painted fair	L
	-
I grant indeed that fields and flocks have charms	A
For him that grazes or for him that farms	A
But when amid such pleasing scenes I trace	A
The poor laborious natives of the place	A
And see the mid day sun with fervid ray	I
On their bare heads and dewy temples play	I
While some with feebler heads and fainter hearts	A
Deplore their fortune yet sustain their parts	A
Then shall I dare these real ills to hide	P
In tinsel trappings of poetic pride	P
	-
No cast by Fortune on a frowning coast	Q
Which neither groves nor happy valleys boast	Q
Where other cares than those the Muse relates	A
And other shepherds dwell with other mates	A
By such examples taught I paint the Cot	R
As Truth will paint it and as Bards will not	R
Nor you ye poor of letter'd scorn complain	E
To you the smoothest song is smooth in vain	E
O'ercome by labour and bow'd down by time	K
Feel you the barren flattery of a rhyme	K
Can poets soothe you when you pine for bread	S
By winding myrtles round your ruin'd shed	S
Can their light tales your weighty griefs o'erpower	I
Or glad with airy mirth the toilsome hour	I
	-
Lo where the heath with withering brake grown o'er	I
Lends the light turf that warms the neighbouring poor	I
From thence a length of burning sand appears	A
Where the thin harvest waves its wither'd ears	A
Rank weeds that every art and care defy	T
Reign o'er the land and rob the blighted rye	T
There thistles stretch their prickly arms afar	I
And to the ragged infant threaten war	I
There poppies nodding mock the hope of toil	U
There the blue bugloss paints the sterile soil	U
Hardy and high above the slender sheaf	V
The slimy mallow waves her silky leaf	V
O'er the young shoot the charlock throws a shade	M
And clasping tares cling round the sickly blade	M
With mingled tints the rocky coasts abound	W
And a sad splendour vainly shines around	W
So looks the nymph whom wretched arts adorn	X
Betray'd by man then left for man to scorn	X
Whose cheek in vain assumes the mimic rose	A
While her sad eyes the troubled breast disclose	A
Whose outward splendour is but folly's dress	A
Exposing most when most it gilds distress	A
	-
Here joyous roam a wild amphibious race	A
With sullen woe display'd in every face	A
Who far from civil arts and social fly	T
And scowl at strangers with suspicious eye	T
	-
Here too the lawless merchant of the main	E
Draws from his plough th' intoxicated swain	E
Want only claim'd the labour of the day	I
But vice now steals his nightly rest away	I
	-
Where are the swains who daily labour done	Y
With rural games play'd down the setting sun	Y
Who struck with matchless force the bounding ball	Z
Or made the pond'rous quoit obliquely fall	Z
While some huge Ajax terrible and strong	H
Engaged some artful stripling of the throng	H
And fell beneath him foil'd while far around	W
Hoarse triumph rose and rocks return'd the sound	W
Where now are these Beneath yon cliff they stand	A2
To show the freighted pinnace where to land	A2
To load the ready steed with guilty haste	B2
To fly in terror o'er the pathless waste	B2
Or when detected in their straggling course	A
To foil their foes by cunning or by force	A
Or yielding part which equal knaves demand	A2
To gain a lawless passport through the land	A2
	-
Here wand'ring long amid these frowning fields	A
I sought the simple life that Nature yields	A
Rapine and Wrong and Fear usurp'd her place	A
And a bold artful surly savage race	A
Who only skill'd to take the finny tribe	C2
The yearly dinner or septennial bribe	C2
Wait on the shore and as the waves run high	T
On the tost vessel bend their eager eye	T
Which to their coast directs its vent'rous way	I
Theirs or the ocean's miserable prey	I
	-
As on their neighbouring beach yon swallows stand	A2
And wait for favouring winds to leave the land	A2
While still for flight the ready wing is spread	S
So waited I the favouring hour and fled	S
Fled from those shores where guilt and famine reign	E
And cried Ah hapless they who still remain	E
Who still remain to hear the ocean roar	I
Whose greedy waves devour the lessening shore	I
Till some fierce tide with more imperious sway	I
Sweeps the low hut and all it holds away	I
When the sad tenant weeps from door to door	I
And begs a poor protection from the poor	I
	-
But these are scenes where Nature's niggard hand	A2
Gave a spare portion to the famish'd land	A2
Hers is the fault if here mankind complain	E
Of fruitless toil and labour spent in vain	E
But yet in other scenes more fair in view	D2
Where Plenty smiles alas she smiles for few	D2
And those who taste not yet behold her store	I
Are as the slaves that dig the golden ore	I
The wealth around them makes them doubly poor	I
	-
Or will you deem them amply paid in health	E2
Labour's fair child that languishes with wealth	E2
Go then and see them rising with the sun	Y
Through a long course of daily toil to run	Y
See them beneath the dog star's raging heat	F2
When the knees tremble and the temples beat	F2
Behold them leaning on their scythes look o'er	I
The labour past and toils to come explore	I
See them alternate suns and showers engage	G2
And hoard up aches and anguish for their age	G2
Through fens and marshy moors their steps pursue	D2
When their warm pores imbibe the evening dew	D2
Then own that labour may as fatal be	H2
To these thy slaves as thine excess to thee	H2
	-
Amid this tribe too oft a manly pride	P
Strives in strong toil the fainting heart to hide	P
There may you see the youth of slender frame	I2
Contend with weakness weariness and shame	I2
Yet urged along and proudly loth to yield	J2
He strives to join his fellows of the field	J2
Till long contending nature droops at last	B
Declining health rejects his poor repast	B
His cheerless spouse the coming danger sees	A
And mutual murmurs urge the slow disease	A
	-
Yet grant them health 'tis not for us to tell	K2
Though the head droops not that the heart is well	K2
Or wil	L2

George Crabbe

The Village: Book I Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis

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