Jinny The Just Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis

Rhyme Scheme: AAA BBB CCC CCC DDD EEE AAA FFF BBB GGG AAA HII JJJ KKK LDD MMM NNN OOO KKK PPP AAA QQQ RRR DDD BBB SSS TUT CCC LDD BBB CCT VVV AAA TTT CCCC

Releas'd from the noise of the butcher and bakerA
Who my old friends be thanked did seldom forsake herA
And from the soft duns of my landlord the QuakerA
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From chiding the footmen and watching the lassesB
From Nell that burn'd milk and Tom that broke glassesB
Sad mischiefs thro' which a good housekeeper passesB
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From some real care but more fancied vexationC
From a life parti colour'd half reason half passionC
Here lies after all the best wench in the nationC
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From the Rhine to the Po from the Thames to the RhoneC
Joanna or Janneton Jinny or JoanC
'Twas all one to her by what name she was knownC
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For the idiom of words very little she heededD
Provided the matter she drove at succeededD
She took and gave languages just as she neededD
-
So for kitchen and market for bargain and saleE
She paid English or Dutch or French down on the nailE
But in telling a story she sometimes did failE
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Then begging excuse as she happen'd to stammerA
With respect to her betters but none to her grammarA
Her blush helped her out and her jargon became herA
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Her habit and mien she endeavor'd to frameF
To the different gout of the place where she cameF
Her outside still chang'd but her inside the sameF
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At the Hague in her slippers and hair as the mode isB
At Paris all falbalow'd fine as a goddessB
And at censuring London in smock sleeves and bodiceB
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She order'd affairs that few people could tellG
In what part about her that mixture did dwellG
Of Frow or Mistress or MademoiselleG
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For her surname and race let the herald's e'en answerA
Her own proper worth was enough to advance herA
And he who liked her little value her grandsireA
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But from what house so ever her lineage may comeH
I wish my own Jinny but out of her tombI
Tho' all her relations were there in her roomI
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Of such terrible beauty she never could boastJ
As with absolute sway o'er all hearts rules the roastJ
When J bawls out to the chair for a toastJ
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But of good household features her person was madeK
Nor by faction cried up nor of censure afraidK
And her beauty was rather for use than paradeK
-
Her blood so well mix't and flesh so well pastedL
That tho' her youth faded her comeliness lastedD
The blue was wore off but the plum was well tastedD
-
Less smooth than her skin and less white than her breastM
Was this polished stone beneath which she lies pressedM
Stop reader and sigh while thou thinkst on the restM
-
With a just trim of virtue her soul was enduedN
Not affectedly pious nor secretly lewdN
She cut even between the coquette and the prudeN
-
Her will with her duty so equally stoodO
That seldom oppos'd she was commonly goodO
And did pretty well doing just what she wouldO
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Declining all power she found means to persuadeK
Was then most regarded when most she obey'dK
The mistress in truth when she seem'd but the maidK
-
Such care of her own proper actions she tookP
That on other folk's lives she had not time to lookP
So censure and praise were struck out of her bookP
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Her thought still confin'd to its own little sphereA
She minded not who did excel or did errA
But just as the matter related to herA
-
Then too when her private tribunal was rear'dQ
Her mercy so mix'd with her judgment appear'dQ
That her foes were condemn'd and her friends always clear'dQ
-
Her religion so well with her learning did suitR
That in practice sincere and in controverse muteR
She showed she knew better to live than disputeR
-
Some parts of the Bible by heart she recitedD
And much in historical chapters delightedD
But in points about Faith she was something short sightedD
-
So notions and modes she refer'd to the schoolsB
And in matters of conscience adher'd to two rulesB
To advise with no bigots and jest with no foolsB
-
And scrupling but little enough she believ'dS
By charity ample small sins she retriev'dS
And when she had new clothes she always receiv'dS
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Thus still whilst her morning unseen fled awayT
In ord'ring the linen and making the teaU
That scarce could have time for the psalms of the dayT
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And while after dinner the night came so soonC
That half she propos'd very seldom was doneC
With twenty God bless me's how this day is goneC
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While she read and accounted and paid and abatedL
Eat and drank play'd and work'd laugh'd and cried lov'd and hatedD
As answer'd the end of her being createdD
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In the midst of her age came a cruel diseaseB
Which neither her juleps nor receipts could appeaseB
So down dropp'd her clay may her Soul be at peaceB
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Retire from this sepulchre all the profaneC
You that love for debauch or that marry for gainC
Retire lest ye trouble the Manes of JT
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But thou that know'st love above int'rest or lustV
Strew the myrle and rose on this once belov'd dustV
And shed one pious tear upon Jinny the JustV
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Tread soft on her grave and do right to her honorA
Let neither rude hand nor ill tongue light upon herA
Do all the small favors that now can be done herA
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And when what thou lik'd shall return to her clayT
For so I'm persuaded she must do one dayT
Whatever fantastic John Asgill may sayT
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When as I have done now thou shalt set up a stoneC
For something however distinguished or knownC
May some pious friend the misfortune bemoanC
And make thy concern by reflexion his ownC

Matthew Prior



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