To My Dear Friend Mr. E[ldred] R[evett]. On His Poems Moral And Divine Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis
Rhyme Scheme: AABCDDEE EEFFEEGH FFIJKKKKKK LLMMNNKK OOKKGHPPQQKKRRKKFP SSFF TTFFKKEEUVWWKKPPXXKK KK| Cleft as the top of the inspired hill | A |
| Struggles the soul of my divided quill | A |
| Whilst this foot doth the watry mount aspire | B |
| That Sinai's living and enlivening fire | C |
| Behold my powers storm'd by a twisted light | D |
| O' th' Sun and his first kindled his sight | D |
| And my lost thoughts invoke the prince of day | E |
| My right to th' spring of it and him do pray | E |
| - | |
| Say happy youth crown'd with a heav'nly ray | E |
| Of the first flame and interwreathed bay | E |
| Inform my soul in labour to begin | F |
| Ios or Anthems Poeans or a Hymne | F |
| Shall I a hecatombe on thy tripod slay | E |
| Or my devotions at thy altar pay | E |
| While which t' adore th' amaz'd world cannot tell | G |
| The sublime Urim or deep oracle | H |
| - | |
| Heark how the moving chords temper our brain | F |
| As when Apollo serenades the main | F |
| Old Ocean smooths his sullen furrow'd front | I |
| And Nereids do glide soft measures on't | J |
| Whilst th' air puts on its sleekest smoothest face | K |
| And each doth turn the others looking glasse | K |
| So by the sinewy lyre now strook we see | K |
| Into soft calms all storm of poesie | K |
| And former thundering and lightning lines | K |
| And verse now in its native lustre shines | K |
| - | |
| How wert thou hid within thyself how shut | L |
| Thy pretious Iliads lock'd up in a nut | L |
| Not hearing of thee thou dost break out strong | M |
| Invading forty thousand men in song | M |
| And we secure in our thin empty heat | N |
| Now find ourselves at once surprised and beat | N |
| Whilst the most valiant of our wits now sue | K |
| Fling down their arms ask quarter too of you | K |
| - | |
| So cabin'd up in its disguis'd coarse rust | O |
| And scurf'd all ore with its unseemly crust | O |
| The diamond from 'midst the humbler stones | K |
| Sparkling shoots forth the price of nations | K |
| Ye safe unriddlers of the stars pray tell | G |
| By what name shall I stamp my miracle | H |
| Thou strange inverted Aeson that leap'st ore | P |
| From thy first infancy into fourscore | P |
| That to thine own self hast the midwife play'd | Q |
| And from thy brain spring'st forth the heav'nly maid | Q |
| Thou staffe of him bore him that bore our sins | K |
| Which but set down to bloom and bear begins | K |
| Thou rod of Aaron with one motion hurl'd | R |
| Bud'st a perfume of flowers through the world | R |
| You strange calcined seeds within a glass | K |
| Each species Idaea spring'st as 'twas | K |
| Bright vestal flame that kindled but ev'n now | F |
| For ever dost thy sacred fires throw | P |
| - | |
| Thus the repeated acts of Nestor's age | S |
| That now had three times ore out liv'd the stage | S |
| And all those beams contracted into one | F |
| Alcides in his cradle hath outdone | F |
| - | |
| But all these flour'shing hiews with which I die | T |
| Thy virgin paper now are vain as I | T |
| For 'bove the poets Heav'n th' art taught to shine | F |
| And move as in thy proper crystalline | F |
| Whence that mole hill Parnassus thou dost view | K |
| And us small ants there dabbling in its dew | K |
| Whence thy seraphic soul such hymns doth play | E |
| As those to which first danced the first day | E |
| Where with a thorn from the world ransoming wreath | U |
| Thou stung dost antiphons and anthems breathe | V |
| Where with an Angels quil dip'd i' th' Lambs blood | W |
| Thou sing'st our Pelicans all saving flood | W |
| And bath'st thy thoughts in ever living streams | K |
| Rench'd from earth's tainted fat and heavy steams | K |
| There move translated youth inroll'd i' th' quire | P |
| That only doth with wholy lays inspire | P |
| To whom his burning coach Eliah sent | X |
| And th' royal prophet priest his harp hath lent | X |
| Which thou dost tune in consort unto those | K |
| Clap wings for ever at each hallow'd close | K |
| Whilst we now weak and fainting in our praise | K |
| Sick echo ore thy Halleluiahs | K |
Richard Lovelace
(1)
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About To My Dear Friend Mr. E[ldred] R[evett]. On His Poems Moral And Divine
To My Dear Friend Mr. E[ldred] R[evett]. On His Poems Moral And Divine is a poem by Richard Lovelace. This page includes the poem text, poet information, related topics, comments, and similar poems.