A Fancy Poem Rhyme Scheme

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Sir Edward Dyer

A Fancy Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis

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Hee that his mirth hath loste	A
Whose comfort is dismaid	A
Whose hope is vaine whose faith is scorned	A
Whose trust is all betraid	A
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	-
If he have held them deare	B
And cannot cease to moane	C
Come let him take his place by me	D
He shall not rue alone	C
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But if the smalest sweete	A
Be mixt with all his sowre	B
If in the day the moneth the yeare	B
He finde one lightsome hower	B
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Then rest he by himself	E
He is noe mate for me	D
Whose hope is falen whose succor voyde	A
Whose hart his death must be	D
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Yet not the wish d death	F
That hathe noe plainte nor lacke	G
Which making free the better parte	A
Is onely nature's sacke	G
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Oh me that wer too well	H
My death is of the minde	A
Which alwayes yeeld s extreame paines	I
Yet keepes the worst behind	A
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As one that lives in shewe	J
But inwardly doth die	A
Whose knowledge is a bloody field	A
Wheare all hope slaine doth lie	A
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	-
Whose harte the aulter is	I
Whose spirit the sacrifize	I
Unto the Powers whome to appease	I
Noe sorrowes can sufize	I
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	-
Whose fancies are like thornes	I
On which I goe by night	A
Whose arguments are like a hoste	A
That force hath put to flight	A
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	-
Whose sense is passion's spye	K
Whose thoughtes like ruins old	A
Of Carthage or the famous towne	C
That Sinon bought and sold	A
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	-
Which still before my face	I
My mortall foe doth lay	L
Whome love and fortune once advanced	A
And nowe hath cast away	L
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	-
O thoughtes noe thoughtes but woundes	I
Sometimes the seate of Joy	M
Sometimes the chaire of quiet rest	A
But nowe of all annoy	M
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	-
I sowed the feild of peace	I
My blisse was in the Springe	M
And day by day I ate the fruit	A
That my Live's tree did bring	G
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	-
To nettels nowe my corne	C
My feild is turnd to flint	A
Where sitting in the cipres shade	A
I reade the hiacint	A
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	-
The joy the rest the life	N
That I enioyed of yore	B
Came to my lot that by my losse	I
My smarte might smarte the more	B
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	-
Thus to unhappie men	C
The best frames to the worste	A
O tyme O places O woordes O lookes	I
Deere then but nowe accurst	A
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	-
In 'was' stood my delight	A
In 'is' and 'shall' my woe	J
My horrors fastned in the 'yea '	-
My hope hangs in the 'noe '	-
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	-
I looke for noe delight	A
Releefe will come too late	A
Too late I finde I finde too well	H
Too well stoode my Estate	A
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	-
Behold heere is the end	A
And nothing heere is sure	B
Ah nothinge ells but plaints and cares	I
Doth to the world enduer	B
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	-
Forsaken first was I	A
Then utterly foregotten	C
And he that came not to my faith	O
Lo my reward hath gotten	C
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	-
Nowe Love where are thy lawes	I
That make thy torments sweete	A
What is the cause that some through thee	D
Have thought their death but meet	A
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	-
Thy stately chaste disdaine	C
Thy secret thanckfulnes	I
Thy grace reservd thy common light	A
That shines in worthines	I
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	-
O that it were not soe	I
Or that I could excuse	I
O that the wrath of Jelousie	I
My judgement might abuse	I
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	-
O fraile unconstant kind	A
And safe in truste to noe man	C
Noe woemen angells are yet loe	J
My mistris is a woman	C
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	-
Yet hate I but the falte	A
And not the faultie one	C
Nor can I rid me of the bonds	I
Wherein I lie alone	C
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Alone I lie whose like	G
By love was never yet	A
Nor rich nor poore nor younge nor old	A
Nor fond nor full of witt	A
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	-
Hers still remaine must I	A
By wronge by death by shame	P
I cannot blot out of my minde	A
That love wrought in her name	P
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I cannot set at naught	A
That I have held soe deare	B
I cannot make it seem so farre	B
That is indeede soe neare	B
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Nor that I meane henceforth	Q
This strange will to professe	I
I never will betray such trust	A
And fall to ficklenesse	I
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Nor shall it ever faile	R
That my word bare in hand	A
I gave my word my worde gave me	D
Both worde and gaift shall stand	A
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	-
Syth then it must be thus	I
And this is all to ill	S
I yeelde me captiue to my curse	I
My harde fate to fulfill	S
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	-
The solitarie woodes	I
My Cittie shall become	T
The darkest den shalbe my lodge	M
Whereto noe light shall come	T
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	-
Of heban blacke my boorde	A
The wormes my meate shalbe	D
Wherewith my carcase shalbe fed	A
Till thes doe feede on me	D
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	-
My wine of Niobe	D
My bed the cragie rocke	G
My harmony the serpent's hisse	I
The shreikinge owle my cocke	G
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	-
Mine exercise naught ells	I
But raginge agonies	I
My bookes of spightfull fortune's foiles	I
And drerye tragedies	I
	-
	-
My walkes the pathes of plaint	A
My prospect into Hell	H
With Sisiphus and all his pheres	I
In endles paines to dwell	H
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And though I seeme to use	I
The poet's fain d stile	U
To figure forth my wofull plight	A
My fall and my exile	U
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	-
Yet is my greeffe not faind	A
Wherein I starve and pine	C
Whoe feeleth most shall finde it least	A
Comparinge his with mine	C
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My songe if anie aske	G
Whose grievous case is such	V
Dy er thou let'st his name be knowne	C
His follye showes too much	V
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But best were thee to hide	A
And never come to light	A
For in the worle can none but thee	D
These accents sound aright	A
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	-
And soe a end my tale is tould	A
His life is but disdaind	A
Whose sorrowes present paine him soe	I
His pleasures are full faind	A
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Finis	I