Master Hugues Of Saxe-gotha Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis
Rhyme Scheme: A BCDCD EFGFE CCCCC H CCCCC H IJIJI H KCKCK H HLHLH H MCMCM C NONON C CPCP C QHQHQ C CCCCC C CRCRC H PPPPP H CSCSC H HPHPH H CCCCC H PPPPT C SSSSS C CCCC C CPCPC C HLHLH C ACACA H CPCPC H CUCVC H HAHAH H APAPA H WWWWW C APAPCCCCP PWSAHLSSW| An imaginary composer | A |
| - | |
| I | - |
| - | |
| Hist but a word fair and soft | B |
| Forth and be judged Master Hugues | C |
| Answer the question I've put you so oft | D |
| What do you mean by your mountainous fugues | C |
| See we're alone in the loft | D |
| - | |
| II | - |
| - | |
| I the poor organist here | E |
| Hugues the composer of note | F |
| Dead though and done with this many a year | G |
| Let's have a colloquy something to quote | F |
| Make the world prick up its ear | E |
| - | |
| III | - |
| - | |
| See the church empties apace | C |
| Fast they extinguish the lights | C |
| Hallo there sacristan Five minutes' grace | C |
| Here's a crank pedal wants setting to rights | C |
| Baulks one of holding the base | C |
| - | |
| IV | H |
| - | |
| See our huge house of the sounds | C |
| Hushing its hundreds at once | C |
| Bids the last loiterer back to his bounds | C |
| O you may challenge them not a response | C |
| Get the church saints on their rounds | C |
| - | |
| V | H |
| - | |
| Saints go their rounds who shall doubt | I |
| March with the moon to admire | J |
| Up nave down chancel turn transept about | I |
| Supervise all betwixt pavement and spire | J |
| Put rats and mice to the rout | I |
| - | |
| VI | H |
| - | |
| Aloys and Jurien and Just | K |
| Order things back to their place | C |
| Have a sharp eye lest the candlesticks rust | K |
| Rub the church plate darn the sacrament lace | C |
| Clear the desk velvet of dust | K |
| - | |
| VII | H |
| - | |
| Here's your book younger folks shelve | H |
| Played I not off hand and runningly | L |
| Just now your masterpiece hard number twelve | H |
| Here's what should strike could one handle it cunningly | L |
| HeIp the axe give it a helve | H |
| - | |
| VIII | H |
| - | |
| Page after page as I played | M |
| Every bar's rest where one wipes | C |
| Sweat from one's brow I looked up and surveyed | M |
| O'er my three claviers yon forest of pipes | C |
| Whence you still peeped in the shade | M |
| - | |
| IX | C |
| - | |
| Sure you were wishful to speak | N |
| You with brow ruled like a score | O |
| Yes and eyes buried in pits on each cheek | N |
| Like two great breves as they wrote them of yore | O |
| Each side that bar your straight beak | N |
| - | |
| X | C |
| - | |
| Sure you said Good the mere notes | C |
| Still couldst thou take my intent | P |
| Know what procured me our Company's votes | C |
| A master were lauded and sciolists shent | P |
| Parted the sheep from the goats '' | - |
| - | |
| XI | C |
| - | |
| Well then speak up never flinch | Q |
| Quick ere my candle's a snuff | H |
| Burnt do you see to its uttermost inch | Q |
| I believe in you but that's not enough | H |
| Give my conviction a clinch | Q |
| - | |
| XII | C |
| - | |
| First you deliver your phrase | C |
| Nothing propound that I see | C |
| Fit in itself for much blame or much praise | C |
| Answered no less where no answer needs be | C |
| Off start the Two on their ways | C |
| - | |
| XIII | C |
| - | |
| Straight must a Third interpose | C |
| Volunteer needlessly help | R |
| In strikes a Fourth a Fifth thrusts in his nose | C |
| So the cry's open the kennel's a yelp | R |
| Argument's hot to the close | C |
| - | |
| XIV | H |
| - | |
| One dissertates he is candid | P |
| Two must discept has distinguished | P |
| Three helps the couple if ever yet man did | P |
| Four protests Five makes a dart at the thing wished | P |
| Back to One goes the case bandied | P |
| - | |
| XV | H |
| - | |
| One says his say with a difference | C |
| More of expounding explaining | S |
| All now is wrangle abuse and vociferance | C |
| Now there's a truce all's subdued self restraining | S |
| Five though stands out all the stiffer hence | C |
| - | |
| XVI | H |
| - | |
| One is incisive corrosive | H |
| Two retorts nettled curt crepitant | P |
| Three makes rejoinder expansive explosive | H |
| Four overbears them all strident and strepitant | P |
| Five O Danaides O Sieve | H |
| - | |
| XVII | H |
| - | |
| Now they ply axes and crowbars | C |
| Now they prick pins at a tissue | C |
| Fine as a skein of the casuist Escobar's | C |
| Worked on the bone of a lie To what issue | C |
| Where is our gain at the Two bars | C |
| - | |
| XVIII | H |
| - | |
| Est fuga volvitur rota | P |
| On we drift where looms the dim port | P |
| One Two Three Four Five contribute their quota | P |
| Something is gained if one caught but the import | P |
| Show it us Hugues of Saxe Gotha | T |
| - | |
| XIX | C |
| - | |
| What with affirming denying | S |
| Holding risposting subjoining | S |
| All's like it's like for an instance I'm trying | S |
| There See our roof its gilt moulding and groining | S |
| Under those spider webs lying | S |
| - | |
| XX | C |
| - | |
| So your fugue broadens and thickens | C |
| Greatens and deepens and lengthens | C |
| Till we exclaim But where's music the dickens | C |
| Blot ye the gold while your spider web strengthens | C |
| Blacked to the stoutest of tickens '' | - |
| - | |
| XXI | C |
| - | |
| I for man's effort am zealous | C |
| Prove me such censure unfounded | P |
| Seems it surprising a lover grows jealous | C |
| Hopes 'twas for something his organ pipes sounded | P |
| Tiring three boys at the bellows | C |
| - | |
| XXII | C |
| - | |
| Is it your moral of Life | H |
| Such a web simple and subtle | L |
| Weave we on earth here in impotent strife | H |
| Backward and forward each throwing his shuttle | L |
| Death ending all with a knife | H |
| - | |
| XXIII | C |
| - | |
| Over our heads truth and nature | A |
| Still our life's zigzags and dodges | C |
| Ins and outs weaving a new legislature | A |
| God's gold just shining its last where that lodges | C |
| Palled beneath man's usurpature | A |
| - | |
| XXIV | H |
| - | |
| So we o'ershroud stars and roses | C |
| Cherub and trophy and garland | P |
| Nothings grow something which quietly closes | C |
| Heaven's earnest eye not a glimpse of the far land | P |
| Gets through our comments and glozes | C |
| - | |
| XXV | H |
| - | |
| Ah but traditions inventions | C |
| Say we and make up a visage | U |
| So many men with such various intentions | C |
| Down the past ages must know more than this age | V |
| Leave we the web its dimensions | C |
| - | |
| XXVI | H |
| - | |
| Who thinks Hugues wrote for the deaf | H |
| Proved a mere mountain in labour | A |
| Better submit try again what's the clef | H |
| 'Faith 'tis no trifle for pipe and for tabor | A |
| Four flats the minor in F | H |
| - | |
| XXVII | H |
| - | |
| Friend your fugue taxes the finger | A |
| Learning it once who would lose it | P |
| Yet all the while a misgiving will linger | A |
| Truth's golden o'er us although we refuse it | P |
| Nature thro' cobwebs we string her | A |
| - | |
| XXVIII | H |
| - | |
| Hugues I advise Me Pn | W |
| Counterpoint glares like a Gorgon | W |
| Bid One Two Three Four Five clear the arena | W |
| Say the word straight I unstop the full organ | W |
| Blare out the mode Palestrina | W |
| - | |
| XXIX | C |
| - | |
| While in the roof if I'm right there | A |
| Lo you the wick in the socket | P |
| Hallo you sacristan show us a light there | A |
| Down it dips gone like a rocket | P |
| What you want do you to come unawares | C |
| Sweeping the church up for first morning prayers | C |
| And find a poor devil has ended his cares | C |
| At the foot of your rotten runged rat riddled stairs | C |
| Do I carry the moon in my pocket | P |
| - | |
| A fugue is a short melody | P |
| Keyboard of organ | W |
| A note in music | S |
| The daughters of Danaus condemned to pour water | A |
| into a sieve | H |
| The Spanish casuist so severely mauled by Pascal | L |
| A quick return in fencing | S |
| A closely woven fabric | S |
| Giovanni P da Palestrina celebrated musician | W |
Robert Browning
(1)
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Master Hugues Of Saxe-gotha is a poem by Robert Browning. This page includes the poem text, poet information, related topics, comments, and similar poems.
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