The Haunch Of Venison Poem Rhyme Scheme

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A POETICAL EPISTLE TO LORD CLARE	A
	-
THANKS my Lord for your venison for finer or fatter	B
Never rang'd in a forest or smok'd in a platter	B
The haunch was a picture for painters to study	C
The fat was so white and the lean was so ruddy	C
Though my stomach was sharp I could scarce help regretting	D
To spoil such a delicate picture by eating	D
I had thoughts in my chambers to place it in view	E
To be shown to my friends as a piece of 'virtu'	C
As in some Irish houses where things are so so	F
One gammon of bacon hangs up for a show	F
But for eating a rasher of what they take pride in	G
They'd as soon think of eating the pan it is fried in	G
But hold let me pause Don't I hear you pronounce	H
This tale of the bacon a damnable bounce	H
Well suppose it a bounce sure a poet may try	I
By a bounce now and then to get courage to fly	I
	-
But my Lord it's no bounce I protest in my turn	J
It's a truth and your Lordship may ask Mr Byrne	J
To go on with my tale as I gaz'd on the haunch	F
I thought of a friend that was trusty and staunch	F
So I cut it and sent it to Reynolds undress'd	C
To paint it or eat it just as he lik'd best	C
Of the neck and the breast I had next to dispose	K
'Twas a neck and a breast that might rival M r 's	L
But in parting with these I was puzzled again	M
With the how and the who and the where and the when	M
There's H d and C y and H rth and H ff	E
I think they love venison I know they love beef	E
There's my countryman H gg ns Oh let him alone	N
For making a blunder or picking a bone	N
But hang it to poets who seldom can eat	C
Your very good mutton's a very good treat	C
Such dainties to them their health it might hurt	C
It's like sending them ruffles when wanting a shirt	C
While thus I debated in reverie centred	C
An acquaintance a friend as he call'd himself enter'd	C
An under bred fine spoken fellow was he	C
And he smil'd as he look'd at the venison and me	C
'What have we got here Why this is good eating	D
Your own I suppose or is it in waiting '	-
'Why whose should it be ' cried I with a flounce	H
'I get these things often ' but that was a bounce	H
'Some lords my acquaintance that settle the nation	O
Are pleas'd to be kind but I hate ostentation '	-
	-
'If that be the case then ' cried he very gay	P
'I'm glad I have taken this house in my way	P
To morrow you take a poor dinner with me	C
No words I insist on't precisely at three	C
We'll have Johnson and Burke all the wits will be there	A
My acquaintance is slight or I'd ask my Lord Clare	A
And now that I think on't as I am a sinner	B
We wanted this venison to make out the dinner	B
What say you a pasty it shall and it must	C
And my wife little Kitty is famous for crust	C
Here porter this venison with me to Mile end	C
No stirring I beg my dear friend my dear friend	C
Thus snatching his hat he brush'd off like the wind	C
And the porter and eatables follow'd behind	C
	-
Left alone to reflect having emptied my shelf	E
'And nobody with me at sea but myself'	E
Though I could not help thinking my gentleman hasty	C
Yet Johnson and Burke and a good venison pasty	C
Were things that I never dislik'd in my life	E
Though clogg'd with a coxcomb and Kitty his wife	E
So next day in due splendour to make my approach	F
I drove to his door in my own hackney coach	F
	-
When come to the place where we all were to dine	Q
A chair lumber'd closet just twelve feet by nine	Q
My friend bade me welcome but struck me quite dumb	R
With tidings that Johnson and Burke would not come	R
'For I knew it ' he cried 'both eternally fail	S
The one with his speeches and t'other with Thrale	S
But no matter I'll warrant we'll make up the party	C
With two full as clever and ten times as hearty	C
The one is a Scotchman the other a Jew	E
They're both of them merry and authors like you	E
The one writes the 'Snarler' the other the 'Scourge'	E
Some think he writes 'Cinna' he own to 'Panurge' '	-
While thus he describ'd them by trade and by name	T
They enter'd and dinner was serv'd as they came	T
	-
At the top a fried liver and bacon were seen	U
At the bottom was tripe in a swinging tureen	U
At the sides there was spinach and pudding made hot	C
In the middle a place where the pasty was not	C
Now my Lord as for tripe it's my utter aversion	U
And your bacon I hate like a Turk or a Persian	U
So there I sat stuck like a horse in a pound	C
While the bacon and liver went merrily round	C
But what vex'd me most was that d 'd Scottish rogue	V
With his long winded speeches his smiles and his brogue	V
And 'Madam ' quoth he 'may this bit be my poison	U
A prettier dinner I never set eyes on	U
Pray a slice of your liver though may I be curs'd	C
But I've eat of your tripe till I'm ready to burst	C
'The tripe ' quoth the Jew with his chocolate cheek	V
'I could dine on this tripe seven days in the week	V
I like these here dinners so pretty and small	S
But your friend there the Doctor eats nothing at all '	-
'O Oh ' quoth my friend 'he'll come on in a trice	W
He's keeping a corner for something that's nice	W
There's a pasty' 'A pasty ' repeated the Jew	E
'I don't care if I keep a corner for't too '	-
'What the de'il mon a pasty ' re echoed the Scot	C
'Though splitting I'll still keep a corner for thot '	-
'We'll all keep a corner ' the lady cried out	C
'We'll all keep a corner ' was echoed about	C
While thus we resolv'd and the pasty delay'd	C
With look that quite petrified enter'd the maid	C
A visage so sad and so pale with affright	C
Wak'd Priam in drawing his curtains by night	C
But we quickly found out for who could mistake her	B
That she came with some terrible news from the baker	B
And so it fell out for that negligent sloven	U
Had shut out the pasty on shutting his oven	U
Sad Philomel thus but let similes drop	X
And now that I think on't the story may stop	X
To be plain my good Lord it's but labour misplac'd	C
To send such good verses to one of your taste	C
You've got an odd something a kind of discerning	V
A relish a taste sicken'd over by learning	V
At least it's your temper as very well known	U
That you think very slightly of all that's your own	U
So perhaps in your habits of thinking amiss	Y
You may make a mistake and think slightly of this	Y

Oliver Goldsmith

The Haunch Of Venison Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis

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