Epilogue To 'the Sister' Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis
Rhyme Scheme: AABBCCDDEEFFAGHIIAAJ JKKAAAALKBBF MMNNOOPPFFKKFF| WHAT five long acts and all to make us wiser | A |
| Our authoress sure has wanted an adviser | A |
| Had she consulted 'me' she should have made | B |
| Her moral play a speaking masquerade | B |
| Warm'd up each bustling scene and in her rage | C |
| Have emptied all the green room on the stage | C |
| My life on't this had kept her play from sinking | D |
| Have pleas'd our eyes and sav'd the pain of thinking | D |
| Well since she thus has shown her want of skill | E |
| What if I give a masquerade I will | E |
| But how ay there's the rub 'pausing' I've got my cue | F |
| The world's a masquerade the maskers you you you | F |
| 'To Boxes Pit and Gallery' | A |
| what a group the motley scene discloses | G |
| False wits false wives false virgins and false spouses | H |
| Statesmen with bridles on and close beside 'em | I |
| Patriots in party coloured suits that ride 'em | I |
| There Hebes turn'd of fifty try once more | A |
| To raise a flame in Cupids of threescore | A |
| These in their turn with appetites as keen | J |
| Deserting fifty fasten on fifteen | J |
| Miss not yet full fifteen with fire uncommon | K |
| Flings down her sampler and takes up the woman | K |
| The little urchin smiles and spreads her lure | A |
| And tries to kill ere she's got power to cure | A |
| Thus 'tis with all their chief and constant care | A |
| Is to seem everything but what they are | A |
| Yon broad bold angry spark I fix my eye on | L |
| Who seems to have robb'd his vizor from the lion | K |
| Who frowns and talks and swears with round parade | B |
| Looking as who should say D who's afraid | B |
| 'Mimicking' | F |
| - | |
| Strip but his vizor off and sure I am | M |
| You'll find his lionship a very lamb | M |
| Yon politician famous in debate | N |
| Perhaps to vulgar eyes bestrides the state | N |
| Yet when he deigns his real shape t' assume | O |
| He turns old woman and bestrides a broom | O |
| Yon patriot too who presses on your sight | P |
| And seems to every gazer all in white | P |
| If with a bribe his candour you attack | F |
| He bows turns round and whip the man's a black | F |
| Yon critic too but whither do I run | K |
| If I proceed our bard will be undone | K |
| Well then a truce since she requests it too | F |
| Do you spare her and I'll for once spare you | F |
Oliver Goldsmith
(1)
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