The Ghost, Poem Rhyme Scheme

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There stands a City neither large nor small	A
Its air and situation sweet and pretty	B
It matters very little if at all	A
Whether its denizens are dull or witty	B
Whether the ladies there are short or tall	A
Brunettes or blondes only there stands a city	B
Perhaps 'tis also requisite to minute	C
That there's a Castle and a Cobbler in it	D
	-
A fair Cathedral too the story goes	E
And kings and heroes lie entomb'd within her	F
There pious Saints in marble pomp repose	E
Whose shrines are worn by knees of many a Sinner	F
There too full many an Aldermanic nose	E
Roll'd its loud diapason after dinner	F
And there stood high the holy sconce of Becket	C
Till four assassins came from France to crack it	D
	-
The Castle was a huge and antique mound	G
Proof against all th' artillery of the quiver	F
Ere those abominable guns were found	G
To send cold lead through gallant warrior's liver	F
It stands upon a gently rising ground	G
Sloping down gradually to the river	F
Resembling to compare great things with smaller	F
A well scooped mouldy Stilton cheese but taller	F
	-
The Keep I find 's been sadly alter'd lately	B
And 'stead of mail clad knights of honour jealous	H
In martial panoply so grand and stately	B
Its walls are fill'd with money making fellows	E
And stuff'd unless I'm misinformed greatly	B
With leaden pipes and coke and coals and bellows	E
In short so great a change has come to pass	I
'Tis now a manufactory of Gas	I
	-
But to my tale Before this profanation	J
And ere its ancient glories were cut short all	A
A poor hard working Cobbler took his station	J
In a small house just opposite the portal	K
His birth his parentage and education	J
I know but little of a strange odd mortal	K
His aspect air and gait were all ridiculous	H
His name was Mason he'd been christen'd Nicholas	H
	-
Nick had a wife possessed of many a charm	L
And of the Lady Huntingdon persuasion	J
But spite of all her piety her arm	L
She'd sometimes exercise when in a passion	J
And being of a temper somewhat warm	M
Would now and then seize upon small occasion	J
A stick or stool or anything that round did lie	N
And baste her lord and master most confoundedly	N
	-
No matter 'tis a thing that's not uncommon	J
'Tis what we have all heard and most have read of	O
I mean a bruizing pugilistic woman	J
Such as I own I entertain a dread of	O
And so did Nick whom sometimes there would come on	P
A sort of fear his spouse might knock his head off	Q
Demolish half his teeth or drive a rib in	R
She shone so much in 'facers' and in 'fibbing '	-
	-
'There's time and place for all things ' said a sage	S
King Solomon I think and this I can say	T
Within a well roped ring or on a stage	S
Boxing may be a very pretty Fancy	B
When Messrs Burke or Bendigo engage	S
' Tis not so well in Susan Jane or Nancy	B
To get well mill'd by any one's an evil	N
But by a lady ' tis the very Devil	N
	-
And so thought Nicholas whose only trouble	N
At least his worst was this his rib's propensity	B
For sometimes from the alehouse he would hobble	N
His senses lost in a sublime immensity	B
Of cogitation then he couldn't cobble	N
And then his wife would often try the density	B
Of his poor skull and strike with all her might	B
As fast as kitchen wenches strike a light	B
	-
Mason meek soul who ever hated strife	U
Of this same striking had the utmost dread	B
He hated it like poison or his wife	U
A vast antipathy but so he said	B
And very often for a quiet life	U
On these occasions he'd sneak up to bed	B
Grope darkling in and soon as at the door	V
He heard his lady he'd pretend to snore	V
	-
One night then ever partial to society	B
Nick with a friend another jovial fellow	N
Went to a Club I should have said Society	B
At the 'City Arms ' once called the Porto Bello	N
A Spouting party which though some decry it I	N
Consider no bad lounge when one is mellow	N
There they discuss the tax on salt and leather	F
And change of ministers and change of weather	F
	-
In short it was a kind of British Forum	W
Like John Gale Jones's erst in Piccadilly	B
Only they managed things with more decorum	W
And the Orations were not quite so silly	B
Far different questions too would come before 'em	W
Not always Politics which will ye nill ye	B
Their London prototypes were always willing	X
To give one quantum suff of for a shilling	X
	-
It more resembled one of later date	B
And tenfold talent as I'm told in Bow Street	B
Where kindlier natured souls do congregate	B
And though there are who deem that same a low street	B
Yet I'm assured for frolicsome debate	B
And genuine humour it's surpaass'd by no street	B
When the 'Chief Baron' enters and assumes	Y
To 'rule' o'er mimic 'Thesigers' and 'Broughams '	-
	-
Here they would oft forget their Rulers' faults	Z
And waste in ancient lore the midnight taper	F
Inquire if Orpheus first produced the Waltz	Z
How Gas lights differ from the Delphic Vapour	F
Whether Hippocrates gave Glauber's Salts	Z
And what the Romans wrote on ere they'd paper	F
This night the subject of their disquisitions	Z
Was Ghosts Hobgoblins Sprites and Apparitions	Z
	-
One learned gentleman 'a sage grave man '	-
Talk'd of the Ghost in Hamlet 'sheath'd in steel '	-
His well read friend who next to speak began	A2
Said 'That was Poetry and nothing real '	-
A third of more extensive learning ran	A2
To Sir George Villiers' Ghost and Mrs Veal	N
Of sheeted Spectres spoke with shorten'd breath	B2
And thrice he quoted 'Drelincourt on Death '	-
	-
Nick smoked and smoked and trembled as he heard	B
The point discuss'd and all they said upon it	B
How frequently some murder'd man appear'd	B
To tell his wife and children who had done it	B
Or how a Miser's ghost with grisly beard	B
And pale lean visage in an old Scotch bonnet	B
Wander'd about to watch his buried money	B
When all at once Nick heard the clock strike one he	B
	-
Sprang from his seat not doubting but a lecture	F
Impended from his fond and faithful she	B
Nor could he well to pardon him expect her	F
For he had promised to 'be home to tea '	-
But having luckily the key o' the back door	F
He fondly hoped that unperceived he	B
Might creep up stairs again pretend to doze	Z
And hoax his spouse with music from his nose	Z
	-
Vain fruitless hope The weary sentinel	N
At eve may overlook the crouching foe	N
Till ere his hand can sound the alarum bell	N
He sinks beneath the unexpected blow	N
Before the whiskers of Grimalkin fell	N
When slumb'ring on her post the mouse may go	N
But woman wakeful woman 's never weary	B
Above all when she waits to thump her deary	B
	-
Soon Mrs Mason heard the well known tread	B
She heard the key slow creaking in the door	F
Spied through the gloom obscure towards the bed	B
Nick creeping soft as oft he had crept before	F
When bang she threw a something at his head	B
And Nick at once lay prostrate on the floor	F
While she exclaim'd with her indignant face on	P
'How dare you use your wife so Mr Mason '	-
	-
Spare we to tell how fiercely she debated	B
Especially the length of her oration	J
Spare we to tell how Nick expostulated	B
Roused by the bump into a good set passion	J
So great that more than once he execrated	B
Ere he crawl'd into bed in his usual fashion	J
The Muses hate brawls suffice it then to say	Z
He duck'd below the clothes and there he lay	Z
	-
'Twas now the very witching time of night	B
When churchyards groan and graves give up their dead	B
And many a mischievous enfranchised Sprite	B
Had long since burst his bonds of stone or lead	B
And hurried off with schoolboy like delight	B
To play his pranks near some poor wretch's bed	B
Sleeping perhaps serenely as a porpoise	Z
Nor dreaming of this fiendish Habeas Corpus	Z
	-
Not so our Nicholas his meditations	Z
Still to the same tremen	J

Richard Harris Barham

The Ghost, Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis

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