Against The Love Of Great Ones. Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis
Rhyme Scheme: AABBCDEEFGHHEE IIJJKKLLEE MNOO PPJJQRSSEETTSSEEUUJJ JJSSVVWXTTJJJ JJUU| Vnhappy youth betrayd by Fate | A |
| To such a love hath sainted hate | A |
| And damned those celestiall bands | B |
| Are onely knit with equal hands | B |
| The love of great ones is a love | C |
| Gods are incapable to prove | D |
| For where there is a joy uneven | E |
| There never never can be Heav'n | E |
| 'Tis such a love as is not sent | F |
| To fiends as yet for punishment | G |
| IXION willingly doth feele | H |
| The gyre of his eternal wheele | H |
| Nor would he now exchange his paine | E |
| For cloudes and goddesses againe | E |
| - | |
| Wouldst thou with tempests lye Then bow | I |
| To th' rougher furrows of her brow | I |
| Or make a thunder bolt thy choyce | J |
| Then catch at her more fatal voyce | J |
| Or 'gender with the lightning trye | K |
| The subtler flashes of her eye | K |
| Poore SEMELE wel knew the same | L |
| Who both imbrac't her God and flame | L |
| And not alone in soule did burne | E |
| But in this love did ashes turne | E |
| - | |
| How il doth majesty injoy | M |
| The bow and gaity oth' boy | N |
| As if the purple roabe should sit | O |
| And sentence give ith' chayr of wit | O |
| - | |
| Say ever dying wretch to whom | P |
| Each answer is a certaine doom | P |
| What is it that you would possesse | J |
| The Countes or the naked Besse | J |
| Would you her gowne or title do | Q |
| Her box or gem the thing or show | R |
| If you meane HER the very HER | S |
| Abstracted from her caracter | S |
| Unhappy boy you may as soone | E |
| With fawning wanton with the Moone | E |
| Or with an amorous complaint | T |
| Get prostitute your very saint | T |
| Not that we are not mortal or | S |
| Fly VENUS altars and abhor | S |
| The selfesame knack for which you pine | E |
| But we defend us are divine | E |
| Not female but madam born and come | U |
| From a right honourable wombe | U |
| Shal we then mingle with the base | J |
| And bring a silver tinsell race | J |
| Whilst th' issue noble wil not passe | J |
| The gold alloyd almost halfe brasse | J |
| And th' blood in each veine doth appeare | S |
| Part thick Booreinn part Lady Cleare | S |
| Like to the sordid insects sprung | V |
| From Father Sun and Mother Dung | V |
| Yet lose we not the hold we have | W |
| But faster graspe the trembling slave | X |
| Play at baloon with's heart and winde | T |
| The strings like scaines steale into his minde | T |
| Ten thousand false and feigned joyes | J |
| Far worse then they whilst like whipt boys | J |
| After this scourge hee's hush with toys | J |
| - | |
| This heard Sir play stil in her eyes | J |
| And be a dying live like flyes | J |
| Caught by their angle legs and whom | U |
| The torch laughs peece meale to consume | U |
Richard Lovelace
(1)
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