The World Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis

Rhyme Scheme: AAAABBCDEBFFGGAAAAHH IIJKGLAAMMAAHHAANNOO PPPPJJQRAAAASSTTUVPP WWXXAAPPYYPPAAAAPPPP PPZZPPA2A2PPAALAB2B2

Wee falsely think it due unto our friendsA
That we should grieve for their too early endsA
He that surveys the world with serious eysA
And stripps Her from her grosse and weak disguiseA
Shall find 'tis injury to mourn their fateB
He only dy's untimely who dy's LateB
For if 'twere told to children in the wombC
To what a stage of mischief they must comeD
Could they foresee with how much toile and sweatE
Men court that Guilded nothing being GreatB
What paines they take not to be what they seemF
Rating their blisse by others false esteemF
And sacrificing their content to beG
Guilty of grave and serious VanityG
How each condition hath its proper ThornsA
And what one man admires another ScornsA
How frequently their happiness they misseA
And so farre from agreeing what it isA
That the same Person we can hardly findH
Who is an houre together in a mindH
Sure they would beg a period of their breathI
And what we call their birth would count their DeathI
Mankind is mad for none can live aloneJ
Because their joys stand by comparisonK
And yet they quarrell at SocietyG
And strive to kill they know not whom nor whyL
We all live by mistake delight in DreamesA
Lost to ourselves and dwelling in extreamesA
Rejecting what we have though ne're so goodM
And prizing what we never understoodM
compar'd to our boystrous inconstancyA
Tempests are calme and discords harmonyA
Hence we reverse the world and yet do findH
The God that made can hardly please our mindH
We live by chance and slip into EventsA
Have all of Beasts except their InnocenceA
The soule which no man's pow'r can reach a thingN
That makes each women Man each man a KingN
Doth so much loose and from its height so fallO
That some content to have no Soule at allO
Tis either not observ'd or at the bestP
By passion fought withall by sin deprestP
Freedome of will god's image is forgotP
And if we know it we improve it notP
Our thoughts thou nothing can be more our ownJ
Are still unguided verry seldom knownJ
Time 'scapes our hands as water in a SieveQ
We come to dy ere we begin to LiveR
Truth the most suitable and noble PrizeA
Food of our spirits yet neglected ly'sA
Errours and shaddows ar our choice and weA
Ow our perdition to our Own decreeA
If we search Truth we make it more obscureS
And when it shines we can't the Light endureS
For most men who plod on and eat and drinkT
Have nothing less their business then to thinkT
And those few that enquire how small a shareU
Of Truth they fine how dark their notions areV
That serious evenness that calmes the BrestP
And in a Tempest can bestow a restP
We either not attempt or elce sic declineW
By every triffle snatch'd from our designW
Others he must in his deceits involveX
Who is not true unto his own resolveX
We govern not our selves but loose the reinsA
Courting our bondage to a thousand chainsA
And with as man slaverys contentP
As there are Tyrants ready to TormentP
We live upon a Rack extended stillY
To one extreme or both but always illY
For since our fortune is not understoodP
We suffer less from bad then from the goodP
The sting is better drest and longer lastsA
As surfeits are more dangerous than fastsA
And to compleat the misery to usA
We see extreames are still contiguousA
And as we run so fast from what we hateP
Like Squibs on ropes to know no middle stateP
So outward storms strengthen'd by us we findP
Our fortune as disordred as our mindP
But that's excus'd by this it doth its partP
A treacherous world befits a treacherous heartP
All ill's our own the outward storms we loathZ
Receive from us their birth or sting or bothZ
And that our Vanity be past a doubtP
'Tis one new vanity to find it outP
Happy are they to whom god gives a GraveA2
And from themselves as from his wrath doeth saveA2
'Tis good not to be born but if we mustP
The next good is soone to return to DustP
When th'uncag'd soule fled to EternityA
Shall rest and live and sing and love and SeeA
Here we but crawle and grope and play and cryL
Are first our own then others EnemyA
But there shall be defac'd both stain and scoreB2
For time and Death and sin shall be no moreB2

Katherine Philips



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