First Epistle To Robert Graham, Esq. Of Fintray. Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis
Rhyme Scheme: AABB CDDDEEFFGGHHIIII JJKLKKMMNOHHIIPPQRSS TTAAUUVW XXYYZZA2A2B2B2C2C2JJ D2E2HHIIII F2F2G2G2H2H2IIOOAAII I2J2IIXK2LLL2L2M2M2M 2| When Nature her great master piece designed | A |
| And fram'd her last best work the human mind | A |
| Her eye intent on all the mazy plan | B |
| She form'd of various parts the various man | B |
| - | |
| Then first she calls the useful many forth | C |
| Plain plodding industry and sober worth | D |
| Thence peasants farmers native sons of earth | D |
| And merchandise' whole genus take their birth | D |
| Each prudent cit a warm existence finds | E |
| And all mechanics' many apron'd kinds | E |
| Some other rarer sorts are wanted yet | F |
| The lead and buoy are needful to the net | F |
| The caput mortuum of gross desires | G |
| Makes a material for mere knights and squires | G |
| The martial phosphorus is taught to flow | H |
| She kneads the lumpish philosophic dough | H |
| Then marks th' unyielding mass with grave designs | I |
| Law physic politics and deep divines | I |
| Last she sublimes th' Aurora of the poles | I |
| The flashing elements of female souls | I |
| - | |
| The order'd system fair before her stood | J |
| Nature well pleas'd pronounc'd it very good | J |
| But ere she gave creating labour o'er | K |
| Half jest she tried one curious labour more | L |
| Some spumy fiery ignis fatuus matter | K |
| Such as the slightest breath of air might scatter | K |
| With arch alacrity and conscious glee | M |
| Nature may have her whim as well as we | M |
| Her Hogarth art perhaps she meant to show it | N |
| She forms the thing and christens it a Poet | O |
| Creature tho' oft the prey of care and sorrow | H |
| When blest to day unmindful of to morrow | H |
| A being form'd t'amuse his graver friends | I |
| Admir'd and prais'd and there the homage ends | I |
| A mortal quite unfit for fortune's strife | P |
| Yet oft the sport of all the ills of life | P |
| Prone to enjoy each pleasure riches give | Q |
| Yet haply wanting wherewithal to live | R |
| Longing to wipe each tear to heal each groan | S |
| Yet frequent all unheeded in his own | S |
| - | |
| But honest Nature is not quite a Turk | T |
| She laugh'd at first then felt for her poor work | T |
| Pitying the propless climber of mankind | A |
| She cast about a standard tree to find | A |
| And to support his helpless woodbine state | U |
| Attach'd him to the generous truly great | U |
| A title and the only one I claim | V |
| To lay strong hold for help on bounteous Graham | W |
| - | |
| Pity the tuneful muses' hapless train | X |
| Weak timid landsmen on life's stormy main | X |
| Their hearts no selfish stern absorbent stuff | Y |
| That never gives tho' humbly takes enough | Y |
| The little fate allows they share as soon | Z |
| Unlike sage proverb'd wisdom's hard wrung boon | Z |
| The world were blest did bliss on them depend | A2 |
| Ah that the friendly e'er should want a friend | A2 |
| Let prudence number o'er each sturdy son | B2 |
| Who life and wisdom at one race begun | B2 |
| Who feel by reason and who give by rule | C2 |
| Instinct's a brute and sentiment a fool | C2 |
| Who make poor will do wait upon I should | J |
| We own they're prudent but who feels they're good | J |
| Ye wise ones hence ye hurt the social eye | D2 |
| God's image rudely etch'd on base alloy | E2 |
| But come ye who the godlike pleasure know | H |
| Heaven's attribute distinguished to bestow | H |
| Whose arms of love would grasp the human race | I |
| Come thou who giv'st with all a courtier's grace | I |
| Friend of my life true patron of my rhymes | I |
| Prop of my dearest hopes for future times | I |
| - | |
| Why shrinks my soul half blushing half afraid | F2 |
| Backward abash'd to ask thy friendly aid | F2 |
| I know my need I know thy giving hand | G2 |
| I crave thy friendship at thy kind command | G2 |
| But there are such who court the tuneful nine | H2 |
| Heavens should the branded character be mine | H2 |
| Whose verse in manhood's pride sublimely flows | I |
| Yet vilest reptiles in their begging prose | I |
| Mark how their lofty independent spirit | O |
| Soars on the spurning wing of injur'd merit | O |
| Seek not the proofs in private life to find | A |
| Pity the best of words should be but wind | A |
| So to heaven's gates the lark's shrill song ascends | I |
| But grovelling on the earth the carol ends | I |
| In all the clam'rous cry of starving want | I2 |
| They dun benevolence with shameless front | J2 |
| Oblige them patronize their tinsel lays | I |
| They persecute you all your future days | I |
| Ere my poor soul such deep damnation stain | X |
| My horny fist assume the plough again | K2 |
| The pie bald jacket let me patch once more | L |
| On eighteen pence a week I've liv'd before | L |
| Tho' thanks to Heaven I dare even that last shift | L2 |
| I trust meantime my boon is in thy gift | L2 |
| That plac'd by thee upon the wish'd for height | M2 |
| Where man and nature fairer in her sight | M2 |
| My muse may imp her wing for some sublimer flight | M2 |
Robert Burns
(1)
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