The Devil And The Monk Poem Rhyme Scheme

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Once Satan and a monk went on a drunk	A
And Satan struck a bargain with the monk	A
Whereby the Devil's crew was much increased	B
By penceless poor and now and then a priest	B
Who lacking cunning or good common sense	C
Got caught in flagrante and out of pence	C
Then in high glee the Devil filled a cup	D
And drank a brimming bumper to the pope	E
Then Here's to you he said sober or drunk	A
In cowl or corsets every monk's a punk	A
Whate'er they preach unto the common breed	F
At heart the priests and I are well agreed	F
Justice is blind we see and deaf and old	G
But in her scales can hear the clink of gold	G
The convent is a harem in disguise	H
And virtue is a fig leaf for the wise	H
To hide the naked truth of lust and lecheries	H
	-
And still the toilers feed the pious breed	F
And pin their faith upon the bishop's sleeve	I
Hungry for hope they gulp a moldy creed	F
And dine on faith 'Tis easier to believe	I
An old time fiction than to wear a tooth	J
In gnawing bones to reach the marrow truth	J
Priests murder Truth and with her gory ghost	K
They frighten fools and give the rogues a roast	K
Until without or pounds or pence or price	H
Free as the fabled wine of paradise	H
They furnish priestly plates with buttered toast	K
Your priests of superstition stalk the land	L
With Jacob's winning voice and Esau's hand	L
Sinners to hell and saints to heaven they call	M
And eat the fattest fodder in the stall	M
They versed in dead rituals in dead language deep	N
Talk Greek to th' grex and Latin to their sheep	N
And feed their flocks a flood of cant and college	O
For every drop of sense or useful knowledge	P
	-
I beg your pardon softly said the monk	A
I fear your Majesty is raving drunk	A
I would be courteous	H
But the Devil laughed	Q
And slyly winked and sagely shook his head	R
My fawning dog the sage satanic said	R
Wags not his tail for me but for my bread	R
Brains rule to day as they have ruled for aye	S
And craft grown craftier in this modern day	T
Still rides the fools but in a craftier way	T
And priestcraft lingers and survives its use	H
What was a blessing once is now abuse	H
Grown fat and arrogant on power and pelf	I
The old time shepherd has become a wolf	I
And only feeds his flocks to feast himself	I
To clink of coin the pious juggler jumps	H
For still he thinks as in the days of old	G
The key to holy heaven is made of gold	G
That in the game of mortals money is trumps	H
That golden darts will pierce e'en Virtue's shield	U
And by the salve of gold all sins are healed	U
So old Saint Peter stands outside the fence	H
With hand outstretched for toll of Peter pence	H
And sinners' souls must groan in Purgatory	V
Until they pay the admission fee to glory	V
	-
There was an honest poet once on earth	W
Who beat all other bardies at a canter	X
Rob' Burns his mother called him at his birth	W
Though handicapped by rum and much a ranter	X
He won the madcap race in Tam O'Shanter	X
He drove a spanking span from Scottish heather	X
Strong limbed but light of foot as flea or feather	X
Rhyme and Reason matched and yoked together	X
And reined them with light hand and limber leather	X
He wrote to me once on a time I mind it	Y
A bold epistle and the poet signed it	Y
He thought to cheat Auld Nickie of his dues	H
But who outruns the Devil casts his shoes	H
And so at last from frolicking and drinkin'	Z
'Some luckless hour' sent him to Hell 'alinkin' CW	A
Times had been rather dull in my dominion	Z
And all my imps like lubbers lay a snoring	A
But Burns began to rhyme us his opinion	Z
And in ten minutes had all Hell aroaring	A
Then Robbie pulled his book of poems out	A2
And read us sundry satires from the book	A
'Death and Doctor Hornbook' raised a shout	A2
Till all the roof tin on the rafters shook	A
And when his 'Unco Guid' the bardie read	R
The crew all clapped their hands and yelled like mad	B2
But 'Holy Willie's Prayer' 'brought down the house'	H
So I was glad to give the bard a pass	H
And a few pence for toll at Peter's gate	C2
For if the roof of Hell were made of brass	H
Bob Burns would shake it off as sure as fate	C2
I mind it well that poem on a louse	H
'O wad some pow'r the giftie gie us ' Monk	A
'To see oursels as others see us' drunk	A
'It wad frae monie a blunder free us' list	D2
'And foolish notion ' Abbot bishop priest	B
'What airs in dress an' gait wad lea'e' you all	M
'And ev'n devotion ' Cowls and robes would fall	M
And sometimes leave a bishop but a beast	B
And show a leper sore where erst they made a priest	B
	-
CW Tripping See Burns' Address to the Deil	M
	-
Not to be beat the jolly monk filled up	D
His silver mug with rare old Burgundy	V
Here's to your health he said your Majesty	V
And drained the brimming goblet at a gulp	E2
'For when the Devil was sick the Devil a monk would be	V
But when the Devil got well a devil a monk was he '	-
In vino veritas is true no doubt	A2
When wine goes in teetotal truth comes out	A2
To shake a little Shakespeare in the wine	Z
'Some rise by sin and some by virtue fall'	M
But in the realm of Fate as I opine	Z
A devil a virtue is or sin at all	M
'The Devil be damned' is what we preach you know it	Y
At mass and vespers holy bread and dinner	X
From priest to pope from pedagogue to poet	F2
We sanctify the sin and damn the sinner	X
This poet Shakespeare whom I read with pleasure	X
Wrote once I think in taking his own 'Measure'	X
'They say best men are molded out of faults	H
And for the most become much more the better	X
For being a little bad ' The reason halts	H
If read between the lines not by the letter	X
'Tis plain enough that Shakespeare was atrimmin'	Z
His own unruly ship and furling sail	M
To meet a British tempest or a gale	M
And keep cold water from his wine and women	Z
Now I'll admit when he's a little mellow	M
The Devil himself's a devilish clever fellow	M
And though his cheeks and paunch are somewhat shrunk	A
He only lacks a cowl to make a monk	A
Time is the mother of twins et hic et nunc	A
Come hood your horns and fill the mug abrimmin'	Z
For we are cheek by jowl on wit and wine and women	Z
	-
And so the monk and Devil filled the mug	A
And quaffed and chaffed and laughed the night away	T
And when the wee sma hours of night had come	G2
The monk slipped out and stole the abbot's rum	G2
And when the abbot came at break of day	T
There cheek by jowl horns hoofs and hood they lay	T
With open missal and an empty jug	A
And broken beads and badly battered mug	A
In fond embrace dead drunk upon the rug	A
	-
Think not wise reader that the bard hath drunk	A
The wine that fumed these vagaries from the monk	A
Nor in the devil ethics thou hast read	R
There spake the poet in the Devil's stead	R
Let Virtue be our helmet and our shield	U
And Truth our weapon weapon sharp and strong	A
And deadly to all error and all wrong	A
Yea armed with Truth though rogues and rascals throng	A
The citadel of Virtue shall not yield	U
For God's right arm of Truth prevails in every field	U

Hanford Lennox Gordon

The Devil And The Monk Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis

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