Epistle To The Honourable C. B. Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis

Rhyme Scheme: AABCAAAADDEEFFAAGGAA HHIJIKKLLAAMNAAOOPPQ QRRSSAAAATTDDUUVVOOW WXXYYQZ

When B invites me and inviting singsA
Instant I'd fly had heaven vouchsafed me wingsA
To hail him in that calm sequestered seatB
Whence he looks down with pity on the greatC
And midst the groves retired at leisure wooesA
Domestic love contentment and the MuseA
I wish for wings and winds to speed my courseA
Since B t and the fates refuse a horseA
Where now the Pegasus of antient timeD
And Ippogrifo famed in modern rhimeD
O where that wooden steed whose every legE
Like lightning flew obsequious to the pegE
The waxen wings by Daedalus designedF
And China waggons wafted by the windF
A Spaniard reached the moon upborn by geeseA
Then first 'twas known that she was made of cheeseA
A fidler on a fish through waves advancedG
He twanged his catgut and the Dolphin dancedG
Hags rode on broom sticks heathen gods on cloudsA
Ladies on rams and bulls have dared the floodsA
Much famed the shoes Jack Giant killer woreH
And Fortunatus' hat is famed much moreH
Such vehicles were common once no doubtI
But modern versemen must even trudge on footJ
Or doze at home expectants of the goutI
Hard is the task indeed 'tis wondrous hardK
To act the Hirer yet preserve the BardK
'Next week by but 'tis a sin to swearL
'I give my word sir you shall have my mareL
'Sound wind and limb as any ever wasA
'And rising only seven years old next grassA
'Four miles an hour she goes nor needs a spurM
'A pretty piece of flesh upon my conscience sir 'N
This speech was B t's and tho' mean in phraseA
The nearest thing to prose as Horace saysA
Satire the fourth and forty second lineO
'Twill intimate that I propose to dineO
Next week with B Muse lend thine aid a whileP
For this great purpose claims a lofty styleP
Ere yonder sun now glorious in the westQ
Has thrice three times reclined on Thetis' breastQ
Ere thrice three times from old Tithonus' bedR
Her charms all glowing with celestial redR
The balmy morn shall rise to mortal viewS
And from her bright locks shake the pearls of dewS
These eyes O B shall hail thy opening gladesA
These ears shall catch the music of thy shadesA
This cherished frame shall drink the gladsome galesA
And the fresh fragrance of thy flowery valesA
And for I know the Muse will come alongT
To B I mean to meditate a songT
A song adorned with every rural charmD
Trim as thy garden ample as thy farmD
Sweet as thy milk and brisk as bottled beerU
Wholesome as mutton and as water clearU
In wildflowers fertile as thy fields of cornV
And frolicksome as lambs or sheep new shornV
I ask not ortolans or Chian wineO
The fat of rams or quintessence of swineO
Her spicy stores let either India keepW
Nor El Dorado vend her golden sheepW
And to the mansion house or council hallX
Still on her black splay feet may the huge tortoise crawlX
Not Parson's butt my appetite can moveY
Nor Bell thy beer nor even thy nectar JoveY
If B be happy and in health his guestQ
Whom wit and learning charm can wish no better feastZ

James Beattie



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