Second Epistle To Robert Graham, Esq., Of Fintry Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis
Rhyme Scheme: AABBCCBB DDBBEEFFGGHHII BBJJKKLLFFBBBB MMII NNOPQQBBRRRBBSK BBIITTUVWXYYPPII DDEE OOBBIIZPA2A2B2C2C2| LATE crippl'd of an arm and now a leg | A |
| About to beg a pass for leave to beg | A |
| Dull listless teas'd dejected and deprest | B |
| Nature is adverse to a cripple's rest | B |
| Will generous Graham list to his Poet's wail | C |
| It soothes poor Misery hearkening to her tale | C |
| And hear him curse the light he first survey'd | B |
| And doubly curse the luckless rhyming trade | B |
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| - | |
| Thou Nature partial Nature I arraign | D |
| Of thy caprice maternal I complain | D |
| The lion and the bull thy care have found | B |
| One shakes the forests and one spurns the ground | B |
| Thou giv'st the ass his hide the snail his shell | E |
| Th' envenom'd wasp victorious guards his cell | E |
| Thy minions kings defend control devour | F |
| In all th' omnipotence of rule and power | F |
| Foxes and statesmen subtile wiles ensure | G |
| The cit and polecat stink and are secure | G |
| Toads with their poison doctors with their drug | H |
| The priest and hedgehog in their robes are snug | H |
| Ev'n silly woman has her warlike arts | I |
| Her tongue and eyes her dreaded spear and darts | I |
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| But Oh thou bitter step mother and hard | B |
| To thy poor fenceless naked child the Bard | B |
| A thing unteachable in world's skill | J |
| And half an idiot too more helpless still | J |
| No heels to bear him from the op'ning dun | K |
| No claws to dig his hated sight to shun | K |
| No horns but those by luckless Hymen worn | L |
| And those alas not Amalthea's horn | L |
| No nerves olfact'ry Mammon's trusty cur | F |
| Clad in rich Dulness' comfortable fur | F |
| In naked feeling and in aching pride | B |
| He bears th' unbroken blast from ev'ry side | B |
| Vampyre booksellers drain him to the heart | B |
| And scorpion critics cureless venom dart | B |
| - | |
| - | |
| Critics appall'd I venture on the name | M |
| Those cut throat bandits in the paths of fame | M |
| Bloody dissectors worse than ten Monroes | I |
| He hacks to teach they mangle to expose | I |
| - | |
| - | |
| His heart by causeless wanton malice wrung | N |
| By blockheads' daring into madness stung | N |
| His well won bays than life itself more dear | O |
| By miscreants torn who ne'er one sprig must wear | P |
| Foil'd bleeding tortur'd in th' unequal strife | Q |
| The hapless Poet flounders on thro' life | Q |
| Till fled each hope that once his bosom fir'd | B |
| And fled each muse that glorious once inspir'd | B |
| Low sunk in squalid unprotected age | R |
| Dead even resentment for his injur'd page | R |
| He heeds or feels no more the ruthless critic's rage | R |
| So by some hedge the gen'rous steed deceas'd | B |
| For half starv'd snarling curs a dainty feast | B |
| By toil and famine wore to skin and bone | S |
| Lies senseless of each tugging bitch's son | K |
| - | |
| - | |
| O Dulness portion of the truly blest | B |
| Calm shelter'd haven of eternal rest | B |
| Thy sons ne'er madden in the fierce extremes | I |
| Of Fortune's polar frost or torrid beams | I |
| If mantling high she fills the golden cup | T |
| With sober selfish ease they sip it up | T |
| Conscious the bounteous meed they well deserve | U |
| They only wonder some folks do not starve | V |
| The grave sage hern thus easy picks his frog | W |
| And thinks the mallard a sad worthless dog | X |
| When disappointments snaps the clue of hope | Y |
| And thro' disastrous night they darkling grope | Y |
| With deaf endurance sluggishly they bear | P |
| And just conclude that fools are fortune's care | P |
| So heavy passive to the tempest's shocks | I |
| Strong on the sign post stands the stupid ox | I |
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| - | |
| Not so the idle Muses' mad cap train | D |
| Not such the workings of their moon struck brain | D |
| In equanimity they never dwell | E |
| By turns in soaring heav'n or vaulted hell | E |
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| I dread thee Fate relentless and severe | O |
| With all a poet's husband's father's fear | O |
| Already one strong hold of hope is lost | B |
| Glencairn the truly noble lies in dust | B |
| Fled like the sun eclips'd as noon appears | I |
| And left us darkling in a world of tears | I |
| O hear my ardent grateful selfish pray'r | Z |
| Fintry my other stay long bless and spare | P |
| Thro' a long life his hopes and wishes crown | A2 |
| And bright in cloudless skies his sun go down | A2 |
| May bliss domestic smooth his private path | B2 |
| Give energy to life and soothe his latest breath | C2 |
| With many a filial tear circling the bed of death | C2 |
Robert Burns
(1)
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About Second Epistle To Robert Graham, Esq., Of Fintry
Second Epistle To Robert Graham, Esq., Of Fintry is a poem by Robert Burns. This page includes the poem text, poet information, related topics, comments, and similar poems.