Simonides Preserved By The Gods.[1] Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis

Rhyme Scheme: AABBAACCDDEFGGHHIIAA JJKKAAKKJJLCAAMNOPQQ CCRRJJSSDDTTDDUVVUAA AAWWXYJJZAZAJJA2B2AA AAQQAA

Three sorts there are as Malherbe saysA
Which one can never overpraiseA
The gods the ladies and the kingB
And I for one endorse the thingB
The heart praise tickles and enticesA
Of fair one's smile it oft the price isA
See how the gods sometimes repay itC
Simonides the ancients say itC
Once undertook in poem lyricD
To write a wrestler's panegyricD
Which ere he had proceeded far inE
He found his subject somewhat barrenF
No ancestors of great renownG
His sire of some unnoted townG
Himself as little known to fameH
The wrestler's praise was rather tameH
The poet having made the most ofI
Whate'er his hero had to boast ofI
Digress'd by choice that was not all luck'sA
To Castor and his brother PolluxA
Whose bright career was subject ampleJ
For wrestlers sure a good exampleJ
Our poet fatten'd on their storyK
Gave every fight its place and gloryK
Till of his panegyric wordsA
These deities had got two thirdsA
All done the poet's feeK
A talent was to beK
But when he comes his bill to settleJ
The wrestler with a spice of mettleJ
Pays down a third and tells the poetL
'The balance they may pay who owe itC
The gods than I are rather debtorsA
To such a pious man of lettersA
But still I shall be greatly pleasedM
To have your presence at my feastN
Among a knot of guests selectO
My kin and friends I most respect 'P
More fond of character than cofferQ
Simonides accepts the offerQ
While at the feast the party sitC
And wine provokes the flow of witC
It is announced that at the gateR
Two men in haste that cannot waitR
Would see the bard He leaves the tableJ
No loss at all to 'ts noisy gabbleJ
The men were Leda's twins who knewS
What to a poet's praise was dueS
And thanking paid him by foretellingD
The downfall of the wrestler's dwellingD
From which ill fated pile indeedT
No sooner was the poet freedT
Than props and pillars failingD
Which held aloft the ceilingD
So splendid o'er themU
It downward loudly crash'dV
The plates and flagons dash'dV
And men who bore themU
And what was worseA
Full vengeance for the man of verseA
A timber broke the wrestler's thighsA
And wounded many otherwiseA
The gossip Fame of course took careW
Abroad to publish this affairW
'A miracle ' the public cried delightedX
No more could god beloved bard be slightedY
His verse now brought him more than doubleJ
With neither duns nor care nor troubleJ
Whoe'er laid claim to noble birthZ
Must buy his ancestors a sliceA
Resolved no nobleman on earthZ
Should overgo him in the priceA
From which these serious lessons flowJ
Fail not your praises to bestowJ
On gods and godlike men AgainA2
To sell the product of her painB2
Is not degrading to the MuseA
Indeed her art they do abuseA
Who think her wares to useA
And yet a liberal pay refuseA
Whate'er the great confer upon herQ
They're honour'd by it while they honourQ
Of old Olympus and ParnassusA
In friendship heaved their sky crown'd massesA

Jean De La Fontaine



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