Lines. Addressed To The Rev. J. T. Becher, [1] On His Advising The Author To Mix More With Society. Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis
Rhyme Scheme: A BCBC DEFG HIHI JKJK LMLM NONO PQQQ DRDR STST| A | |
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| Dear BECHER you tell me to mix with mankind | B |
| I cannot deny such a precept is wise | C |
| But retirement accords with the tone of my mind | B |
| I will not descend to a world I despise | C |
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| Did the Senate or Camp my exertions require | D |
| Ambition might prompt me at once to go forth | E |
| When Infancy's years of probation expire | F |
| Perchance I may strive to distinguish my birth | G |
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| The fire in the cavern of Etna conceal'd | H |
| Still mantles unseen in its secret recess | I |
| At length in a volume terrific reveal'd | H |
| No torrent can quench it no bounds can repress | I |
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| Oh thus the desire in my bosom for fame | J |
| Bids me live but to hope for Posterity's praise | K |
| Could I soar with the Phoenix on pinions of flame | J |
| With him I would wish to expire in the blaze | K |
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| For the life of a Fox of a Chatham the death | L |
| What censure what danger what woe would I brave | M |
| Their lives did not end when they yielded their breath | L |
| Their glory illumines the gloom of their grave | M |
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| Yet why should I mingle in Fashion's full herd | N |
| Why crouch to her leaders or cringe to her rules | O |
| Why bend to the proud or applaud the absurd | N |
| Why search for delight in the friendship of fools | O |
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| I have tasted the sweets and the bitters of love | P |
| In friendship I early was taught to believe | Q |
| My passion the matrons of prudence reprove | Q |
| I have found that a friend may profess yet deceive | Q |
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| To me what is wealth it may pass in an hour | D |
| If Tyrants prevail or if Fortune should frown | R |
| To me what is title the phantom of power | D |
| To me what is fashion I seek but renown | R |
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| Deceit is a stranger as yet to my soul | S |
| I still am unpractised to varnish the truth | T |
| Then why should I live in a hateful controul | S |
| Why waste upon folly the days of my youth | T |
George Gordon Byron
(1)
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