Prologue To "aurengzebe." Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis
Rhyme Scheme: AABBCCDDEEFGHHIIJKLL MMBBCCNOPQRSTTUUNOCC| Our author by experience finds it true | A |
| 'Tis much more hard to please himself than you | A |
| And out of no feign'd modesty this day | B |
| Damns his laborious trifle of a play | B |
| Not that it's worse than what before he writ | C |
| But he has now another taste of wit | C |
| And to confess a truth though out of time | D |
| Grows weary of his long loved mistress Rhyme | D |
| Passion's too fierce to be in fetters bound | E |
| And nature flies him like enchanted ground | E |
| What verse can do he has perform'd in this | F |
| Which he presumes the most correct of his | G |
| But spite of all his pride a secret shame | H |
| Invades his breast at Shakspeare's sacred name | H |
| Awed when he hears his godlike Romans rage | I |
| He in a just despair would quit the stage | I |
| And to an age less polish'd more unskill'd | J |
| Does with disdain the foremost honours yield | K |
| As with the greater dead he dares not strive | L |
| He would not match his verse with those who live | L |
| Let him retire betwixt two ages cast | M |
| The first of this and hindmost of the last | M |
| A losing gamester let him sneak away | B |
| He bears no ready money from the play | B |
| The fate which governs poets thought it fit | C |
| He should not raise his fortunes by his wit | C |
| The clergy thrive and the litigious bar | N |
| Dull heroes fatten with the spoils of war | O |
| All southern vices heaven be praised are here | P |
| But wit's a luxury you think too dear | Q |
| When you to cultivate the plant are loth | R |
| 'Tis a shrewd sign 'twas never of your growth | S |
| And wit in northern climates will not blow | T |
| Except like orange trees 'tis housed with snow | T |
| There needs no care to put a playhouse down | U |
| 'Tis the most desert place of all the town | U |
| We and our neighbours to speak proudly are | N |
| Like monarchs ruin'd with expensive war | O |
| While likewise English unconcern'd you sit | C |
| And see us play the tragedy of wit | C |
John Dryden
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