A Satirical Elegy Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis
Rhyme Scheme: A BBCCDDEEFFGGHHIIJKLM NNOO PPQQRRSS| On the Death of a Late FAMOUS GENERAL | A |
| - | |
| - | |
| His Grace impossible what dead | B |
| Of old age too and in his bed | B |
| And could that Mighty Warrior fall | C |
| And so inglorious after all | C |
| Well since he's gone no matter how | D |
| The last loud trump must wake him now | D |
| And trust me as the noise grows stronger | E |
| He'd wish to sleep a little longer | E |
| And could he be indeed so old | F |
| As by the news papers we're told | F |
| Threescore I think is pretty high | G |
| 'Twas time in conscience he should die | G |
| This world he cumber'd long enough | H |
| He burnt his candle to the snuff | H |
| And that's the reason some folks think | I |
| He left behind so great a stink | I |
| Behold his funeral appears | J |
| Nor widow's sighs nor orphan's tears | K |
| Wont at such times each heart to pierce | L |
| Attend the progress of his hearse | M |
| But what of that his friends may say | N |
| He had those honours in his day | N |
| True to his profit and his pride | O |
| He made them weep before he dy'd | O |
| - | |
| Come hither all ye empty things | P |
| Ye bubbles rais'd by breath of Kings | P |
| Who float upon the tide of state | Q |
| Come hither and behold your fate | Q |
| Let pride be taught by this rebuke | R |
| How very mean a thing's a Duke | R |
| From all his ill got honours flung | S |
| Turn'd to that dirt from whence he sprung | S |
Jonathan Swift
(1)
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