The Vision Of Judgment Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis
Rhyme Scheme: A BCBDBDEE A FBFBFBGG A AHAHAHEE A EBEBEBEE A IBIBIBBB A BABCBCII A EBEAEBII A IIIIIIBB E JIJIJIEE E KHCHLHBB E BMBNBNEE E IOIOIOII E EOAOAOII A HBHBOBEE A PQPQPQAA A BRBRBRS A EEE EEM A OBOBOEE E EIEIEIBB E OIOIOIBB E EOEOEOH E BMBMOI | A |
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Saint Peter sat by the celestial gate | B |
His keys were rusty and the lock was dull | C |
So little trouble had been given of late | B |
Not that the place by any means was full | D |
But since the Gallic era 'eight eight' | B |
The devils had ta'en a longer stronger pull | D |
And 'a pull altogether ' as they say | E |
At sea which drew most souls another way | E |
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II | A |
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The angels all were singing out of tune | F |
And hoarse with having little else to do | B |
Excepting to wind up the sun and moon | F |
Or curb a runaway young star or two | B |
Or wild colt of a comet which too soon | F |
Broke out of bounds o'er th' ethereal blue | B |
Splitting some planet with its playful tail | G |
As boats are sometimes by a wanton whale | G |
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III | A |
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The guardian seraphs had retired on high | A |
Finding their charges past all care below | H |
Terrestrial business fill'd nought in the sky | A |
Save the recording angel's black bureau | H |
Who found indeed the facts to multiply | A |
With such rapidity of vice and woe | H |
That he had stripp'd off both his wings in quills | E |
And yet was in arrear of human ills | E |
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IV | A |
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His business so augmented of late years | E |
That he was forced against his will no doubt | B |
Just like those cherubs earthly ministers | E |
For some resource to turn himself about | B |
And claim the help of his celestial peers | E |
To aid him ere he should be quite worn out | B |
By the increased demand for his remarks | E |
Six angels and twelve saints were named his clerks | E |
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V | A |
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This was a handsome board at least for heaven | I |
And yet they had even then enough to do | B |
So many conqueror's cars were daily driven | I |
So many kingdoms fitted up anew | B |
Each day too slew its thousands six or seven | I |
Till at the crowning carnage Waterloo | B |
They threw their pens down in divine disgust | B |
The page was so besmear'd with blood and dust | B |
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VI | A |
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This by the way 'tis not mine to record | B |
What angels shrink Wrom ZAAFXISHJEXXIMQZUIVO | A |
On this occasion his own work abhorr'd | B |
So surfeited with the infernal revel | C |
Though he himself had sharpen'd every sword | B |
It almost quench'd his innate thirst of evil | C |
Here Satan's sole good work deserves insertion | I |
'Tis that he has both generals in reveration | I |
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VII | A |
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Let's skip a few short years of hollow peace | E |
Which peopled earth no better hell as wont | B |
And heaven none they form the tyrant's lease | E |
With nothing but new names subscribed upon't | A |
'Twill one day finish meantime they increase | E |
'With seven heads and ten horns ' and all in front | B |
Like Saint John's foretold beast but ours are born | I |
Less formidable in the head than horn | I |
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VIII | A |
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In the first year of freedom's second dawn | I |
Died George the Third although no tyrant one | I |
Who shielded tyrants till each sense withdrawn | I |
Left him nor mental nor external sun | I |
A better farmer ne'er brush'd dew from lawn | I |
A worse king never left a realm undone | I |
He died but left his subjects still behind | B |
One half as mad and t'other no less blind | B |
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IX | E |
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He died his death made no great stir on earth | J |
His burial made some pomp there was profusion | I |
Of velvet gilding brass and no great dearth | J |
Of aught but tears save those shed by collusion | I |
For these things may be bought at their true worth | J |
Of elegy there was the due infusion | I |
Bought also and the torches cloaks and banners | E |
Heralds and relics of old Gothic manners | E |
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X | E |
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Form'd a sepulchral melo drame Of all | K |
The fools who flack's to swell or see the show | H |
Who cared about the corpse The funeral | C |
Made the attraction and the black the woe | H |
There throbbed not there a thought which pierced the pall | L |
And when the gorgeous coffin was laid low | H |
It seamed the mockery of hell to fold | B |
The rottenness of eighty years in gold | B |
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XI | E |
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So mix his body with the dust It might | B |
Return to what it must far sooner were | M |
The natural compound left alone to fight | B |
Its way back into earth and fire and air | N |
But the unnatural balsams merely blight | B |
What nature made him at his birth as bare | N |
As the mere million's base unmarried clay | E |
Yet all his spices but prolong decay | E |
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XII | E |
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He's dead and upper earth with him has done | I |
He's buried save the undertaker's bill | O |
Or lapidary scrawl the world is gone | I |
For him unless he left a German will | O |
But where's the proctor who will ask his son | I |
In whom his qualities are reigning still | O |
Except that household virtue most uncommon | I |
Of constancy to a bad ugly woman | I |
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XIII | E |
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'God save the king ' It is a large economy | E |
In God to save the like but if he will | O |
Be saving all the better for not one am I | A |
Of those who think damnation better still | O |
I hardly know too if not quite alone am I | A |
In this small hope of bettering future ill | O |
By circumscribing with some slight restriction | I |
The eternity of hell's hot jurisdiction | I |
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XIV | A |
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I know this is unpopular I know | H |
'Tis blasphemous I know one may be damned | B |
For hoping no one else may ever be so | H |
I know my catechism I know we're caromed | B |
With the best doctrines till we quite o'erflow | O |
I know that all save England's church have shamm'd | B |
And that the other twice two hundred churches | E |
And synagogues have made a damn'd bad purchase | E |
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XV | A |
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God help us all God help me too I am | P |
God knows as helpless as the devil can wish | Q |
And not a whit more difficult to damn | P |
Than is to bring to land a late hook'd fish | Q |
Or to the butcher to purvey the lamb | P |
Not that I'm fit for such a noble dish | Q |
As one day will be that immortal fry | A |
Of almost everybody born to die | A |
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XVI | A |
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Saint Peter sat by the celestial gate | B |
And nodded o'er his keys when lo there came | R |
A wondrous noise he had not heard of late | B |
A rushing sound of wind and stream and flame | R |
In short a roar of things extremely great | B |
Which would have made aught save a saint exclaim | R |
But he with first a start and then a wink | S |
Said 'There's another star gone out I think ' | - |
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XVII | A |
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But ere he could return to his repose | E |
A cherub flapp'd his right wing o'er his eyes | E |
At which St Peter yawn'd and rubb'd his hose | E |
'Saint porter ' said the angel 'prithee rise ' | - |
Waving a goodly wing which glow'd as glows | E |
An earthly peacock's tail with heavenly dyes | E |
To which the saint replied 'Well what's the matter | M |
'Is Lucifer come back with all this clatter ' | - |
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XVIII | A |
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'No ' quoth the cherub 'George the Third is dead ' | - |
'And who is George the Third ' replied the apostle | O |
'What George what Third ' 'The king of England ' said | B |
The angel 'Well he won't find kings to jostle | O |
Him on his way but does he wear his head | B |
Because the last we saw here had a tussle | O |
And ne'er would have got into heaven's good graces | E |
Had he not flung his head in all our faces | E |
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XIX | E |
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'He was if I remember king of France | E |
That head of his which could not keep a crown | I |
On earth yet ventured in my face to advance | E |
A claim to those of martyrs like my own | I |
If I had had my sword as I had once | E |
When I cut ears off I had cut him down | I |
But having but my keys and not my brand | B |
I only knock'd his head from out his hand | B |
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XX | E |
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'And then he set up such a headless howl | O |
That all the saints came out and took him in | I |
And there he sits by St Paul cheek by jowl | O |
That fellow Paul the parven The skin | I |
Of St Bartholomew which makes his cowl | O |
In heaven and upon earth redeem'd his sin | I |
So as to make a martyr never sped | B |
Better than did this weak and wooden head | B |
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XXI | E |
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'But had it come up here upon its shoulders | E |
There would have been a different tale to tell | O |
The fellow feeling in the saint's beholders | E |
Seems to have acted on them like a spell | O |
And so this very foolish head heaven solders | E |
Back on its trunk it may be very well | O |
And seems the custom here to overthrow | H |
Whatever has been wisely done below ' | - |
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XXII | E |
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The angel answer'd 'Peter do not pout | B |
The king who comes has head and all entire | M |
And never knew much what it was about | B |
He did as doth the puppet by its wire | M |
And will be judged l | O |
George Gordon Byron
(1)
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