Ainsi Va Le Monde Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis

Rhyme Scheme: A BBCCDEFFGHIIJKLLMMNO PPQRSSTTCC UUMMLLVVWWGGXXYWEZ DDA2A2 B2B2C2C2D2D2E2E2C2C2 KPEEF2F2G2G2FF H2H2CCEEUUH2H2III2I2 CCJ2J2MM XXK2K2J2J2MML2L2XXXX M2M2XXXXXXF2F2N2N2KP MMO2O2NON2N2F2F2EF2X XXXP2P2XXXXE2E2Q2Q2R 2R2XX P2P2CCF2F2 S2S2XXXXDDDDT2T2LL

As a Tribute of Esteem and Admiration this Poem is inscribed to ROBERT MERRY Esq A M Member of the Royal Academy at Florence and Author of the Laurel of Liberty and the Della Crusca PoemsA
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O THOU to whom superior worth's alliedB
Thy Country's honour and the MUSES' prideB
Whose pen gives polish to the varying lineC
That blends instruction with the song divineC
Whose fancy glancing o'er the hostile plainD
Plants a fond trophy o'er the mighty slain IE
Or to the daisied lawn directs its wayF
Blithe as the songstress of returning dayF
Who deign'd to rove where twinkling glow worms leadG
The tiny legions o'er the glitt'ring meadH
Whose liquid notes in sweet meand'rings flowI
Mild as the murmurs of the Bird of WoeI
Who gave to Sympathy its softest pow'rJ
The charm to wing Affliction's sable hourK
Who in Italia's groves with thrilling songL
Call'd mute attention from the minstrel throngL
Gave proud distinction to the Poet's nameM
And claim'd by modest worth the wreath of fameM
Accept the Verse thy magic harp inspiresN
Nor scorn the Muse that kindles at its firesO
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O justly gifted with the Sacred LyreP
Whose sounds can more than mortal thoughts inspireP
Whether its strings HEROIC measures moveQ
Or lyric numbers charm the soul to loveR
Whether thy fancy pours the varying verseS
In bow'rs of bliss or o'er the plumed hearseS
Whether of patriot zeal or past'ral sportsT
The peace of hamlets or the pride of courtsT
Still Nature glows in ev'ry classic lineC
Still Genius dictates still the verse is thineC
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Too long the Muse in ancient garb array'dU
Has pin'd neglected in oblivion's shadeU
Driv'n from the sun shine of poetic fameM
Stripp'd of each charm she scarcely boasts a nameM
Her voice no more can please the vapid throngL
No more loud P ans consecrate her songL
Cold faint and sullen to the grove she fliesV
A faded garland veils her radiant eyesV
A with'ring laurel on her breast she wearsW
Fann'd by her sighs and spangled with her tearsW
From her each fond associate early fledG
She mourn'd a MILTON lost a SHAKSPERE deadG
Her eye beheld a CHATTERTON oppress'dX
A famish'd OTWAY ravish'd from her breastX
Now in their place a flutt'ring form appearsY
Mocks her fall'n pow'r and triumphs in her tearsW
A flippant senseless a ry thing whose eyeE
Glares wanton mirth and fulsome ribaldryZ
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While motley mumm'ry holds her tinsel reignD
SHAKSPERE might write and GARRICK act in vainD
True Wit recedes when blushing Reason viewsA2
This spurious offspring of the banish'd MuseA2
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The task be thine to check the daring handB2
That leads fantastic folly o'er the landB2
The task be thine with witching spells to bindC2
The feath'ry shadows of the fickle mindC2
To strew with deathless flow'rs the dreary wasteD2
To pluck the weeds of vitiated tasteD2
To cheer with smiles the Muse's glorious toilE2
And plant perfection on her native soilE2
The Arts that thro' dark centuries have pin'dC2
Toil'd without fame in sordid chains confin'dC2
Burst into light with renovated fireK
Bid Envy shrink and Ignorance expireP
No more prim KNELLER'S simp'ring beauties vieE
Or LELY'S genius droops with languid eyeE
No more prepost'rous figures pain the viewF2
Aliens to Nature yet to Fancy trueF2
The wild chimeras of capricious thoughtG2
Deform'd in fashion and with errors fraughtG2
The gothic phantoms sick'ning fade awayF
And native Genius rushes into dayF
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REYNOLDS 'tis thine with magic skill to traceH2
The perfect semblance of exterior graceH2
Thy hand by Nature guided marks the lineC
That stamps perfection on the form divineC
'Tis thine to tint the lip with rosy dieE
To paint the softness of the melting eyeE
With auburn curls luxuriantly display'dU
The ivory shoulders polish'd fall to shadeU
To deck the well turn'd arm with matchless graceH2
To mark the dimpled smile on Beauty's faceH2
The task is thine with cunning hand to throwI
The veil transparent on the breast of snowI
The Statesman's thought the Infant's cherub mienI2
The Poet's fire the Matron's eye sereneI2
Alike with animated lustre shineC
Beneath thy polish'd pencil's touch divineC
As BRITAIN'S Genius glories in thy ArtJ2
Adores thy virtues and reveres thy heartJ2
Nations unborn shall celebrate thy nameM
And waft thy mem'ry on the wings of FameM
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Oft when the mind with sick'ning pangs oppress'dX
Flies to the Muse and courts the balm of restX
When Reason sated with life's weary woesK2
Turns to itself and finds a blest reposeK2
A gen'rous pride that scorns each petty artJ2
That feels no envy rankling in the heartJ2
No mean deceit that wings its shaft at FameM
Or gives to pamper'd Vice a pompous NameM
Then calm reflection shuns the sordid crowdL2
The senseless chaos of the little proudL2
Then indignation stealing through the breastX
Spurns the pert tribe in flimsy greatness drestX
Who to their native nothingness consign'dX
Sink in contempt nor leave a trace behindX
Then Fancy paints in visionary gloomM2
The sainted shadows of the laurel'd tombM2
The Star of Virtue glist'ning on each breastX
Divine insignia of the spirit blestX
Then MILTON smiles serene a beauteous shadeX
In worth august in lust'rous fires array'dX
Immortal SHAKSPERE gleams across the sightX
Rob'd in ethereal vest of radiant lightX
Wing'd Ages picture to the dazzled viewF2
Each mark'd perfection of the sacred fewF2
POPE DRYDEN SPENSER all that Fame shall raiseN2
From CHAUCER'S gloom till MERRY'S lucid daysN2
Then emulation kindles fancy's fireK
The glorious throng poetic flights inspireP
Each sensate bosom feels the god like flameM
The cherish'd harbinger of future fameM
Yet timid genius oft in conscious easeO2
Steals from the world content the few to pleaseO2
Obscur'd in shades the modest Muse retiresN
While sparkling vapours emulate her firesO
The proud enthusiast shuns promiscuous praiseN2
The Idiot's smile condemns the Poet's laysN2
Perfection wisely courts the lib'ral fewF2
The voice of kindred genius must be trueF2
But empty witlings sate the public eyeE
With puny jest and low buffooneryF2
The buzzing hornets swarm about the greatX
The poor appendages of pamper'd stateX
The trifling flutt'ring insects of a dayX
Flit near the sun and glitter in its rayX
Whose subtle fires with charms magnetic burnP2
Where every servile fool may have his turnP2
Lull'd in the lap of indolence they boastX
Who best can fawn and who can flatter mostX
While with a cunning arrogance they blendX
Sound without sense and wit that stabs a friendX
Slanders oblique that check ambition's toilE2
The pois'nous weeds that mark the barren soilE2
So the sweet blossoms of salubrious springQ2
Thro the lone wood their spicy odours flingQ2
Shrink from the sun and bow their beauteous headsR2
To scatter incense o'er their native bedsR2
While coarser flow'rs expand with gaudy rayX
Brave the rude wind and mock the burning dayX
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Ah gentle Muse from trivial follies turnP2
Where Patriot souls with god like passions burnP2
Again to MERRY dedicate the lineC
So shall the envied boast of taste be thineC
So shall thy song to glorious themes aspireF2
Warm'd with a spark of his transcendent fireF2
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Thro' all the scenes of Nature's varying planS2
Celestial Freedom warms the breast of manS2
Led by her daring hand what pow'r can bindX
The boundless efforts of the lab'ring mindX
The god like fervour thrilling thro' the heartX
Gives new creation to each vital partX
Throbs rapture thro' each palpitating veinD
Wings the rapt thought and warms the fertile brainD
To her the noblest attributes of Heav'nD
Ambition valour eloquence are giv'nD
She binds the soldier's brow with wreaths sublimeT2
From her expanding reason learns to climbT2
To her the sounds of melody belongL
She wakes the raptures of the Poet's songL

Mary Darby Robinson



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