Poetry And Reality Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis
Rhyme Scheme: AABBCCDDDD EEFFGGHHII JJKKDDLLDDMMHFH LLDDFFDDNNDDFF FFKKFFOOPPFFQQRRLLDD SSTT FFU VVDDFF FFRRFFSSFFFFDDKKF FFFFRRDDFF FFFFFFDDDDDDFFDDRRFF FFSSJJWWFFJJFFRRDD XXYYZZFFFFFFA2 B2C2FFFFFC2C2HH DDDDFFD2D2SSG| THE worldly minded cast in common mould | A |
| With all his might pursuing fame or gold | A |
| And towards that goal too vehemently hurled | B |
| To waste a thought about another world | B |
| Has one advantage which yon lofty host | C |
| His intellectual betters may not boast | C |
| Neither deceiving nor deceived he knows | D |
| He and religion are inveterate foes | D |
| He loves it not and making no pretence | D |
| He shows his honesty if not his sense | D |
| - | |
| But we have seen a high flown mental thing | E |
| As fine and fragile as libella's wing | E |
| All soul and intellect the ethereal mind | F |
| Scarcely within its earthly house confined | F |
| On heaven oft casting an enraptured eye | G |
| And paying compliments to the Most High | G |
| And yet though harsh the judgment seem to be | H |
| As far from Heaven as far from God as he | H |
| Yes might the bold assertion be forgiven | I |
| A poet's soul may miss the road to Heaven | I |
| - | |
| 'Tis Sabbath morning and at early hour | J |
| The poet seeks his own sequestered bower | J |
| The shining landscape stretches full in view | K |
| All heaven is glowing with unclouded blue | K |
| The hills lie basking in the sunny beams | D |
| Enriched with sprinkled hamlets woods and streams | D |
| And hark from tower and steeple here and there | L |
| The cheerful chime bespeaks the hour of prayer | L |
| The poet's inmost soul responsive swells | D |
| To every change of those religious bells | D |
| His fine eye ranging o'er the spacious scene | M |
| With ecstacy unutterably keen | M |
| His mind exalted melted soothed and free | H |
| From earthly tumult all tranquillity | F |
| If this is not devotion what can be | H |
| - | |
| But gentle poet wherefore not repair | L |
| To yonder temple God is worshipped there | L |
| Nay wherefore should he wherefore not address | D |
| The God of nature in that green recess | D |
| Surrounded by His works and not confined | F |
| To rites adapted to the vulgar mind | F |
| There he can sit and thence his soul may rise | D |
| Caught up in contemplation to the skies | D |
| And worship nature's God on reason's plan | N |
| It is delusion self applauding man | N |
| The God of nature is the God of grace | D |
| The contrite spirit is his dwelling place | D |
| And thy proud offering made by reason's light | F |
| Is all abomination in His sight | F |
| - | |
| Let him distinguish if he can indeed | F |
| Wherein his differs from the deist's creed | F |
| Oh he approves the Bible thinks it true | K |
| No matter if he ever read it through | K |
| Admits the evidence that some reject | F |
| For the Messiah professes great respect | F |
| And owns the sacred poets often climb | O |
| Up to the standard of the true sublime | O |
| Is this then all is this the utmost reach | P |
| Of what man learns when God descends to teach | P |
| And is this all and were such wonders wrought | F |
| And tongues and signs and miracles for nought | F |
| If this be all his reason's utmost scope | Q |
| Where rests his faith his practice and his hope | Q |
| 'Deny thyself ' that precept binding still | R |
| As when first issued how does he fulfil | R |
| Where lies the cross that he would daily bear | L |
| Where that reproach the Saviour's flock must share | L |
| What is the dear indulgence he denies | D |
| Which of his virtues is a sacrifice | D |
| Is it his aim to keep the world at bay | S |
| Where then the faith that overcomes its sway | S |
| How has he learned the easy yoke to take | T |
| And count all things but loss for Jesus' sake | T |
| - | |
| Nay this is all irrational absurd | F |
| And yet it is the Bible word for word | F |
| Well but it grates upon his classic ear | U |
| 'He that hath ears to hear it let him hear ' | - |
| Ne'er could he take his gentle lips within | V |
| So unpoetical a word as sin | V |
| He knows it not and never felt its chains | D |
| While unmolested in his heart it reigns | D |
| His self complacence is its own reward | F |
| He wants not such a Saviour as the Lord | F |
| - | |
| Pride and indulgence fallen nature's fruit | F |
| Religion strikes at to the very root | F |
| And where they hold an undisputed rule | R |
| That heart was never in the Gospel school | R |
| And he that makes religion turn and wind | F |
| To suit the delicacy of his mind | F |
| Bids God's own word his proud caprice obey | S |
| Takes what he likes and throws the rest away | S |
| The man whatever he may boast beside | F |
| Is still a slave to intellectual pride | F |
| His heathen altar is inscribed at best | F |
| To 'God unknown ' unhonoured unaddressed | F |
| His Heaven the same Elysian fields as theirs | D |
| Much such a world as this without its cares | D |
| Where souls of friends and lovers two and two | K |
| Walk up and down with nothing else to do | K |
| He in that path the ancient sceptic trod | F |
| 'Knows not the Scripture nor the power of God ' | - |
| Nor loves nor looks to Sion's heavenly gate | F |
| Where many mansions for believers wait | F |
| Where ransomed sinners round their Saviour meet | F |
| And cast their crowns rejoicing at His feet | F |
| And where whate'er pursuits their powers employ | R |
| His presence makes the fulness of their joy | R |
| This is the bliss to which the saint aspires | D |
| This is that 'better country' he desires | D |
| And ah while scoffers laugh and sceptics doubt | F |
| The poor way faring man shall find it out | F |
| - | |
| Indulgence slumbers in the arms of pride | F |
| This sin with that in closest bonds allied | F |
| And he is still an epicure in kind | F |
| Who lives on pleasure though it be refined | F |
| 'Tis true the love of nature genuine taste | F |
| Has ever minds of finest texture graced | F |
| And they who draw no soft emotion thence | D |
| Possess but half a soul and want a sense | D |
| Yes and the Christian poet feels its force | D |
| With double zest and tastes it at its source | D |
| But mark our fond enthusiast where he strays | D |
| In pensive musings glide his tranquil days | D |
| In nature's beauties not content to find | F |
| That bliss subordinate which God designed | F |
| With soothing influence mid corroding cares | D |
| To cheer the hour of leisure duty spares | D |
| It is his very end and chief employ | R |
| To view invoke adore it and enjoy | R |
| He deems his aim and happiness well placed | F |
| Counfounding picturesque with moral taste | F |
| - | |
| The village church in reverend trees arrayed | F |
| His favourite haunt he loves that holy shade | F |
| And there he muses many an eve away | S |
| Though not with others on the Sabbath day | S |
| Nor cares he how they spend the sacred hour | J |
| But how much ivy grows upon the tower | J |
| Yes the deluded poet can believe | W |
| The soothing influence of a summer's eve | W |
| That sacred spot the train of pensive thought | F |
| By osiered grave and sculptured marble brought | F |
| The twilight gloom the stillness of the hour | J |
| Poetic musings on a church yard flower | J |
| The moonshine solitude and all the rest | F |
| Will raise devotion's flame within his breast | F |
| And while susceptive of the magic spell | R |
| Of sacred music and the Sabbath bell | R |
| And each emotion nature's form inspires | D |
| He fancies this is all that God requires | D |
| - | |
| Indeed the Gospel would have been his scoff | X |
| If man's devices had not set it off | X |
| For that which turns poor non conformists sick | Y |
| Touches poetic feeling to the quick | Y |
| The gothic edifice the vaulted dome | Z |
| The toys bequeathed us by our cousin Rome | Z |
| The pompous festival the splendid rite | F |
| The mellow window's soft and soothing light | F |
| The painted altar and the white robed priest | F |
| Those gilded keep sakes from the dying beast | F |
| The silken cassock and the sable vest | F |
| Please him so well that he endures the rest | F |
| Like him how many could we make the search | A2 |
| Who while they hate the Gospel love ' the Church ' | - |
| - | |
| That Gospel preached by Jesus to the poor | B2 |
| Simple sublime and spiritual and pure | C2 |
| Is not constructed and was ne'er designed | F |
| To please the morbid proud romantic mind | F |
| 'Tis not in flowers or fields or fancy found | F |
| Nor on Arcadian nor on holy ground | F |
| 'Tis not in poetry 'tis not in sound | F |
| Not even where those infant lips respire | C2 |
| A heaven of music from the fretted quire | C2 |
| Chanting the prayer or praise in highest key | H |
| Te Deum or Non nobis Domine | H |
| - | |
| He shuns the world but not alone its toys | D |
| Its active duties and its better joys | D |
| 'Tis true he weeps for crime at least his muse | D |
| And sighs for sorrows that he never views | D |
| Indulges languid wishes that mankind | F |
| Were all poetical and all refined | F |
| Forms lofty schemes the flood of vice to stem | D2 |
| But preaching Jesus is not one of them | D2 |
| And thus in waking dreams from day to day | S |
| He wears his tranquil harmless life away | S |
| But true benevolence i | G |
Jane Taylor
(1)
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