The Character Of A Good Parson.[1] Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis

Rhyme Scheme: ABCCDEFGGHIJJKKKLLMM NNOOPQRSRTTUUVWXXKMJ Y PPZA2B2B2FD YYKKC2D2FDE2E2 F2G2OOOO A2ZYYOOOOO OOOOOOOOH2H2OO OOI2I2OOOJ2J2KO EEAA CCOO MMOOOOA2A2Z OOIK2OO YL2 M2M2QP OON2N2OOFD O2O2 DDOO

A parish priest was of the pilgrim trainA
An awful reverend and religious manB
His eyes diffused a venerable graceC
And charity itself was in his faceC
Rich was his soul though his attire was poorD
As God had clothed his own ambassadorE
For such on earth his bless'd Redeemer boreF
Of sixty years he seem'd and well might lastG
To sixty more but that he lived too fastG
Refined himself to soul to curb the senseH
And made almost a sin of abstinenceI
Yet had his aspect nothing of severeJ
But such a face as promised him sincereJ
Nothing reserved or sullen was to seeK
But sweet regards and pleasing sanctityK
Mild was his accent and his action freeK
With eloquence innate his tongue was arm'dL
Though harsh the precept yet the preacher charm'dL
For letting down the golden chain from highM
He drew his audience upward to the skyM
And oft with holy hymns he charm'd their earsN
A music more melodious than the spheresN
For David left him when he went to restO
His lyre and after him he sung the bestO
He bore his great commission in his lookP
But sweetly temper'd awe and soften'd all he spokeQ
He preach'd the joys of heaven and pains of hellR
And warn'd the sinner with becoming zealS
But on eternal mercy loved to dwellR
He taught the gospel rather than the lawT
And forced himself to drive but loved to drawT
For fear but freezes minds but love like heatU
Exhales the soul sublime to seek her native seatU
To threats the stubborn sinner oft is hardV
Wrapp'd in his crimes against the storm preparedW
But when the milder beams of mercy playX
He melts and throws his cumbrous cloak awayX
Lightning and thunder heaven's artilleryK
As harbingers before the Almighty flyM
Those but proclaim his style and disappearJ
The stiller sound succeeds and God is thereY
-
The tithes his parish freely paid he tookP
But never sued or cursed with bell and bookP
With patience bearing wrong but offering noneZ
Since every man is free to lose his ownA2
The country churls according to their kindB2
Who grudge their dues and love to be behindB2
The less he sought his offerings pinch'd the moreF
And praised a priest contented to be poorD
-
Yet of his little he had some to spareY
To feed the famish'd and to clothe the bareY
For mortified he was to that degreeK
A poorer than himself he would not seeK
True priests he said and preachers of the WordC2
Were only stewards of their sovereign LordD2
Nothing was theirs but all the public storeF
Intrusted riches to relieve the poorD
Who should they steal for want of his reliefE2
He judged himself accomplice with the thiefE2
-
Wide was his parish not contracted closeF2
In streets but here and there a straggling houseG2
Yet still he was at hand without requestO
To serve the sick to succour the distress'dO
Tempting on foot alone without affrightO
The dangers of a dark tempestuous nightO
-
All this the good old man perform'd aloneA2
Nor spared his pains for curate he had noneZ
Nor durst he trust another with his careY
Nor rode himself to Paul's the public fairY
To chaffer for preferment with his goldO
Where bishoprics and sinecures are soldO
But duly watch'd his flock by night and dayO
And from the prowling wolf redeem'd the preyO
And hungry sent the wily fox awayO
-
The proud he tamed the penitent he cheer'dO
Nor to rebuke the rich offender fear'dO
His preaching much but more his practice wroughtO
A living sermon of the truths he taughtO
For this by rules severe his life he squaredO
That all might see the doctrine which they heardO
For priests he said are patterns for the restO
The gold of heaven who bear the God impress'dO
But when the precious coin is kept uncleanH2
The Sovereign's image is no longer seenH2
If they be foul on whom the people trustO
Well may the baser brass contract a rustO
-
The prelate for his holy life he prizedO
The worldly pomp of prelacy despisedO
His Saviour came not with a gaudy showI2
Nor was his kingdom of the world belowI2
Patience in want and poverty of mindO
These marks of Church and Churchmen he design'dO
And living taught and dying left behindO
The crown he wore was of the pointed thornJ2
In purple he was crucified not bornJ2
They who contend for place and high degreeK
Are not his sons but those of ZebedeeO
-
Not but he knew the signs of earthly powerE
Might well become Saint Peter's successorE
The holy father holds a double reignA
The prince may keep his pomp the fisher must be plainA
-
Such was the saint who shone with every graceC
Reflecting Moses' like his Maker's faceC
God saw his image lively was express'dO
And his own work as in creation bless'dO
-
The Tempter saw him too with envious eyeM
And as on Job demanded leave to tryM
He took the time when Richard was deposedO
And high and low with happy Harry closedO
This prince though great in arms the priest withstoodO
Near though he was yet not the next of bloodO
Had Richard unconstrain'd resign'd the throneA2
A king can give no more than is his ownA2
The title stood entail'd had Richard had a sonZ
-
Conquest an odious name was laid asideO
Where all submitted none the battle triedO
The senseless plea of right by ProvidenceI
Was by a flattering priest invented sinceK2
And lasts no longer than the present swayO
But justifies the next who comes in playO
-
The people's right remains let those who dareY
Dispute their power when they the judges areL2
-
He join'd not in their choice because he knewM2
Worse might and often did from change ensueM2
Much to himself he thought but little spokeQ
And undeprived his benefice forsookP
-
Now through the land his cure of souls he stretch'dO
And like a primitive apostle preach'dO
Still cheerful ever constant to his callN2
By many follow'd loved by most admired by allN2
With what he begg'd his brethren he relievedO
And gave the charities himself receivedO
Gave while he taught and edified the moreF
Because he showed by proof 'twas easy to be poorD
-
He went not with the crowd to see a shrineO2
But fed us by the way with food divineO2
-
In deference to his virtues I forbearD
To show you what the rest in orders wereD
This brilliant is so spotless and so brightO
He needs no foil but shines by his own proper lightO

John Dryden



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