Granta. A Medley Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis
Rhyme Scheme: A BCBD EFEF GFGF HCIC CACA JKJK ACAC LMLMNONP QRQR SKSK TUTU UVUV GAGA WFWF XKXK GHGH YZYZ A2AA2A B2UB2U C2D2C2E2 ACAC UF2UZ AG2H2I2 UHUH| Reply of the Pythian Oracle to Philip of Macedon | A |
| - | |
| - | |
| Oh could LE SAGE'S demon's gift | B |
| Be realis'd at my desire | C |
| This night my trembling form he'd lift | B |
| To place it on St Mary's spire | D |
| - | |
| Then would unroof'd old Granta's halls | E |
| Pedantic inmates full display | F |
| Fellows who dream on lawn or stalls | E |
| The price of venal votes to pay | F |
| - | |
| Then would I view each rival wight | G |
| PETTY and PALMERSTON survey | F |
| Who canvass there with all their might | G |
| Against the next elective day | F |
| - | |
| Lo candidates and voters lie | H |
| All lull'd in sleep a goodly number | C |
| A race renown'd for piety | I |
| Whose conscience won't disturb their slumber | C |
| - | |
| Lord H indeed may not demur | C |
| Fellows are sage reflecting men | A |
| They know preferment can occur | C |
| But very seldom now and then | A |
| - | |
| They know the Chancellor has got | J |
| Some pretty livings in disposal | K |
| Each hopes that one may be his lot | J |
| And therefore smiles on his proposal | K |
| - | |
| Now from the soporific scene | A |
| I'll turn mine eye as night grows later | C |
| To view unheeded and unseen | A |
| The studious sons of Alma Mater | C |
| - | |
| There in apartments small and damp | L |
| The candidate for college prizes | M |
| Sits poring by the midnight lamp | L |
| Goes late to bed yet early rises | M |
| He surely well deserves to gain them | N |
| With all the honours of his college | O |
| Who striving hardly to obtain them | N |
| Thus seeks unprofitable knowledge | P |
| - | |
| Who sacrifices hours of rest | Q |
| To scan precisely metres Attic | R |
| Or agitates his anxious breast | Q |
| In solving problems mathematic | R |
| - | |
| Who reads false quantities in Seale | S |
| Or puzzles o'er the deep triangle | K |
| Depriv'd of many a wholesome meal | S |
| In barbarous Latin doom'd to wrangle | K |
| - | |
| Renouncing every pleasing page | T |
| From authors of historic use | U |
| Preferring to the letter'd sage | T |
| The square of the hypothenuse | U |
| - | |
| Still harmless are these occupations | U |
| That hurt none but the hapless student | V |
| Compar'd with other recreations | U |
| Which bring together the imprudent | V |
| - | |
| Whose daring revels shock the sight | G |
| When vice and infamy combine | A |
| When Drunkenness and dice invite | G |
| As every sense is steep'd in wine | A |
| - | |
| Not so the methodistic crew | W |
| Who plans of reformation lay | F |
| In humble attitude they sue | W |
| And for the sins of others pray | F |
| - | |
| Forgetting that their pride of spirit | X |
| Their exultation in their trial | K |
| Detracts most largely from the merit | X |
| Of all their boasted self denial | K |
| - | |
| 'Tis morn from these I turn my sight | G |
| What scene is this which meets the eye | H |
| A numerous crowd array'd in white | G |
| Across the green in numbers fly | H |
| - | |
| Loud rings in air the chapel bell | Y |
| 'Tis hush'd what sounds are these I hear | Z |
| The organ's soft celestial swell | Y |
| Rolls deeply on the listening ear | Z |
| - | |
| To this is join'd the sacred song | A2 |
| The royal minstrel's hallow'd strain | A |
| Though he who hears the music long | A2 |
| Will never wish to hear again | A |
| - | |
| Our choir would scarcely be excus'd | B2 |
| E'en as a band of raw beginners | U |
| All mercy now must be refus'd | B2 |
| To such a set of croaking sinners | U |
| - | |
| If David when his toils were ended | C2 |
| Had heard these blockheads sing before him | D2 |
| To us his psalms had ne'er descended | C2 |
| In furious mood he would have tore 'em | E2 |
| - | |
| The luckless Israelites when taken | A |
| By some inhuman tyrant's order | C |
| Were ask'd to sing by joy forsaken | A |
| On Babylonian river's border | C |
| - | |
| Oh had they sung in notes like these | U |
| Inspir'd by stratagem or fear | F2 |
| They might have set their hearts at ease | U |
| The devil a soul had stay'd to hear | Z |
| - | |
| But if I scribble longer now | A |
| The deuce a soul will stay to read | G2 |
| My pen is blunt my ink is low | H2 |
| 'Tis almost time to stop indeed | I2 |
| - | |
| Therefore farewell old Granta's spires | U |
| No more like Cleofas I fly | H |
| No more thy theme my Muse inspires | U |
| The reader's tir'd and so am I | H |
George Gordon Lord Byron
(1)
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