Satire Ii Poem Rhyme Scheme

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Sir though I thanke God for it I do hate	A
Perfectly all this towne yet there's one state	A
In all ill things so excellently best	B
That hate towards them breeds pitty towards the rest	B
Though Poetry indeed be such a sinne	C
As I thinke that brings dearths and Spaniards in	C
Though like the Pestilence and old fashion'd love	D
Ridlingly it catch men and doth remove	E
Never till it be sterv'd out yet their state	A
Is poore disarm'd like Papists not worth hate	A
One like a wretch which at Barre judg'd as dead	F
Yet prompts him which stands next and cannot reade	F
And saves his life gives ideot actors meanes	G
Starving himselfe to live by'his labor'd sceanes	G
As in some Organ Puppits dance above	D
And bellows pant below which them do move	E
One would move Love by rimes but witchcrafts charms	G
Bring not now their old feares nor their old harmes	G
Rammes and slings now are seely battery	H
Pistolets are the best Artillerie	H
And they who write to Lords rewards to get	I
Are they not like singers at doores for meat	J
And they who write because all write have still	K
That excuse for writing and for writing ill	K
But hee is worst who beggarly doth chaw	L
Others wits fruits and in his ravenous maw	L
Rankly digested doth those things out spue	M
As his owne things 'and they are his owne 'tis true	H
For if one eate my meate though it be knowne	C
The meate was mine th'excrement is his owne	C
But these do mee no harme nor they which use	G
To out doe Dildoes and out usure Jewes	G
To'out drinke the sea to'out sweare the Letanie	C
Who with sinnes all kindes as familiar bee	H
As Confessors and for whose sinfull sake	N
Schoolemen new tenements in hell must make	N
Whose strange sinnes Canonists could hardly tell	O
In which Commandements large receit they dwell	O
But these punish themselves the insolence	G
Of Coscus onely breeds my just offence	G
Whom time which rots all and makes botches poxe	G
And plodding on must make a calfe an oxe	G
Hath made a Lawyer which was alas of late	A
But a scarce Poet jollier of this state	A
Then are new benefic'd ministers he throwes	G
Like nets or lime twigs wheresoere he goes	G
His title'of Barrister on every wench	L
And wooes in language of the Pleas and Bench	L
'A motion Lady ' 'Speake Coscus ' 'I'have beene	C
In love ever since tricesimo' of the Queene	C
Continuall claimes I'have made injunctions got	P
To stay my rivals suit that hee should not	P
Proceed ' 'Spare mee ' 'In Hillary terme I went	Q
You said If I returne next size in Lent	Q
I should be in remitter of your grace	G
In th'interim my letters should take place	G
Of affidavits ' words words which would teare	H
The tender labyrinth of a soft maids eare	H
More more then ten Sclavonians scolding more	H
Then when winds in our ruin'd Abbeyes rore	H
When sicke with Poetrie 'and possest with muse	G
Thou wast and mad I hop'd but men which chuse	G
Law practise for meere gaine bold soule repute	R
Worse then imbrothel'd strumpets prostitute	R
Now like an owlelike watchman hee must walke	S
His hand still at a bill now he must talke	S
Idly like prisoners which whole months will sweare	H
That onely suretiship hath brought them there	H
And to'every suitor lye in every thing	S
Like a Kings favorite yea like a King	S
Like a wedge in a blocke wring to the barre	H
Bearing like Asses and more shameless farre	H
Then carted whores lye to the grave Judge for	H
Bastardy'abounds not in Kings titles nor	H
Symonie'and Sodomy in Churchmens lives	G
As these things do in him by these he thrives	G
Shortly 'as the sea hee'will compasse all our land	T
From Scots to Wight from Mount to Dover strand	T
And spying heires melting with luxurie	H
Satan will not joy at their sinnes as hee	H
For as a thrifty wench scrapes kitching stuffe	E
And barrelling the droppings and the snuffe	E
Of wasting candles which in thirty yeare	H
Relique like kept perchance buyes wedding geare	H
Peecemeale he gets lands and spends as much time	U
Wringing each Acre as men pulling prime	U
In parchments then large as his fields hee drawes	G
Assurances bigge as gloss'd civill lawes	G
So huge that men in our times forwardnesse	G
Are Fathers of the Church for writing lesse	G
These hee writes not nor for these written payes	G
Therefore spares no length as in those first dayes	G
When Luther was profest he did desire	H
Short Pater nosters saying as a Fryer	H
Each day his beads but having left those lawes	G
Addes to Christs prayer the Power and glory clause	G
But when he sells or changes land he'impaires	G
His writings and unwatch'd leaves out ses heires	G
As slily'as any Commenter goes by	V
Hard words or sense or in Divinity	H
As controverters in vouch'd texts leave out	W
Shrewd words which might against them cleare the doubt	W
Where are those spred woods which cloth'd heretofore	H
Those bought lands not built not burnt within dore	H
Where's th'old landlords troops and almes In great hals	G
Carthusian fasts and fulsome Bachanalls	G
Equally'I hate meanes blesse in rich mens homes	G
I bid kill some beasts but no Hecatombs	G
None starve none surfet so But Oh we'allow	X
Good workes as good but out of fashion now	X
Like old rich wardrops but my words none drawes	G
Within the vast reach of th'huge statute lawes	G

John Donne

Satire Ii Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis

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