The Snayl Poem Rhyme Scheme

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Wise emblem of our politick world	A
Sage Snayl within thine own self curl'd	A
Instruct me softly to make hast	B
Whilst these my feet go slowly fast	B
	-
Compendious Snayl thou seem'st to me	C
Large Euclid's strict epitome	C
And in each diagram dost fling	D
Thee from the point unto the ring	D
A figure now trianglare	E
An oval now and now a square	E
And then a serpentine dost crawl	F
Now a straight line now crook'd now all	F
	-
Preventing rival of the day	G
Th' art up and openest thy ray	G
And ere the morn cradles the moon	H
Th' art broke into a beauteous noon	H
Then when the Sun sups in the deep	I
Thy silver horns e're Cinthia's peep	I
And thou from thine own liquid bed	J
New Phoebus heav'st thy pleasant head	J
	-
Who shall a name for thee create	K
Deep riddle of mysterious state	K
Bold Nature that gives common birth	L
To all products of seas and earth	L
Of thee as earth quakes is afraid	M
Nor will thy dire deliv'ry aid	M
	-
Thou thine own daughter then and sire	E
That son and mother art intire	E
That big still with thy self dost go	N
And liv'st an aged embrio	E
That like the cubbs of India	O
Thou from thy self a while dost play	G
But frighted with a dog or gun	P
In thine own belly thou dost run	P
And as thy house was thine own womb	Q
So thine own womb concludes thy tomb	Q
	-
But now I must analys'd king	D
Thy oeconomick virtues sing	D
Thou great stay'd husband still within	R
Thou thee that's thine dost discipline	P
And when thou art to progress bent	S
Thou mov'st thy self and tenement	T
As warlike Scythians travayl'd you	U
Remove your men and city too	U
Then after a sad dearth and rain	V
Thou scatterest thy silver train	V
And when the trees grow nak'd and old	W
Thou cloathest them with cloth of gold	W
Which from thy bowels thou dost spin	R
And draw from the rich mines within	R
	-
Now hast thou chang'd thee saint and made	M
Thy self a fane that's cupula'd	M
And in thy wreathed cloister thou	X
Walkest thine own gray fryer too	M
Strickt and lock'd up th'art hood all ore	E
And ne'r eliminat'st thy dore	E
On sallads thou dost feed severe	E
And 'stead of beads thou drop'st a tear	E
And when to rest each calls the bell	Y
Thou sleep'st within thy marble cell	Y
Where in dark contemplation plac'd	M
The sweets of Nature thou dost tast	M
Who now with time thy days resolve	Z
And in a jelly thee dissolve	Z
Like a shot star which doth repair	E
Upward and rarifie the air	E

Richard Lovelace

The Snayl Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis

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