Ode To Sir Andrew Agnew, Bart.[1] Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis

Rhyme Scheme: A B CCDDEFEF GGHIIJKKIAAI BBLLMMNNOPLQQQ RSTSUVVU WWXXBBBB VVYVVYVV QVVQZVZV A2QA2A2QGVGV VB2VB2QQQQ VBVB RRBBC2QQC2 VVVVD2CD2CE2E2

At certain seasons he makes a prodigious clattering with his bill SELBYA
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The bill is rather long flat and tinged with green BEWICKB
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O Andrew Fairservice but I beg pardonC
You never labor'd in Di Vernon's gardenC
On curly kale and cabbages intentD
Andrew Churchservice was the thing I meantD
You are a Christian I would be the sameE
Although we differ and I'll tell you whyF
Not meaning to make gameE
I do not like my Church so very HighF
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When people talk as talk they willG
About your billG
They say among their other jibes and small jeersH
That if you had your wayI
You'd make the seventh dayI
As overbearing as the Dey of AlgiersJ
Talk of converting BlacksK
By your attacksK
You make a thing so horrible of one dayI
Each nigger they will bet a something tidyA
Would rather be a heathenish Man FridayA
Than your Man SundayI
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So poor men speakB
Who once a weekB
P'rhaps after weaving artificial flowersL
Can snatch a glance of Nature's kinder bowersL
And revel in a bloomM
That is not of the loomM
Making the earth the streams the skies the treesN
A Chapel of EaseN
Whereas as you would plan itO
Wall'd in with hard Scotch graniteP
People all day should look to their behaviorsL
But though there be as Shakspeare ownsQ
Sermons in stonesQ
Zounds Would you have us work at them like paviorsQ
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Spontaneous is pure devotion's fireR
And in a green wood many a soul has builtS
A new Church with a fir tree for its spireT
Where Sin has prayed for peace and wept for guiltS
Better than if an architect the plan drewU
We know of old how medicines were back'dV
But true Religion needs not to be quack'dV
By an Un merry AndrewU
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Suppose a poor town weary sallow elfW
At Primrose hill would renovate himselfW
Or drink and no great harmX
Milk genuine at Chalk FarmX
The innocent intention who would balkB
And drive him back into St Bennet FinkB
For my part for my life I cannot thinkB
A walk on Sunday is the Devil's WalkB
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But there's a sect of Deists and their creedV
Is D ing other people to be d dV
Yeas all that are not of their saintly levelY
They make a pious pointV
To send with an arointV
Down to that great Fillhellenist the DevilY
To such a ramble by the River LeaV
Is really treading on the Banks of DV
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Go down to Margate wisest of law makersQ
And say unto the sea as Canute didV
Of course the sea will do as it is bidV
This is the Sabbath but there be no BreakersQ
Seek London's Bishop on some Sunday mornZ
And try him with your tenets to inoculateV
Abuse his fine souchong and say in scornZ
This is not Churchman's ChocolateV
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Or seek Dissenters at their mid day mealA2
And read them from your Sabbath Bill some passagesQ
And while they eat their mutton beef and vealA2
Shout out with holy zealA2
These are not Chappet's sassagesQ
Suppose your Act should act up to your willG
Yet how will it appear to Mrs GrundyV
To hear you saying of this pious billG
It works well on a SundayV
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To knock down apple stalls is now too lateV
Except to starve some poor old harmless madamB2
You might have done some good and chang'd our fateV
Could you have upset that which ruined AdamB2
'Tis useless to prescribe salt cod and eggsQ
Or lay post horses under legal fettersQ
While Tattersall's on Sunday stirs its LegsQ
Folks look for good examples from their BettersQ
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Consider Acts of Parliament may bindV
A man to go where Irvings are discoursingB
But as for forcing proper frames of mindV
Minds are not framed like melons for such forcingB
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Remember as a Scottish legislatorR
The Scotch Kirk always has a ModeratorR
Meaning one need not ever be sojourningB
In a long Sermon Lane without a turningB
Such grave old maids as Portia and ZenobiaC2
May like discourses with a skein of threadsQ
And love a lecture for its many headsQ
But as for me I have the Hydra phobiaC2
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Religion one should never overdoV
Right know I am no minister you beV
For you would say your service sir to meV
Till I should say My service sir to youV
Six days made all that is you know and thenD2
Came that of rest by holy ordinationC
As if to hint unto the sons of menD2
After creation should come re creationC
Read right this text and do not further searchE2
To make a Sunday Workhouse of the ChurchE2

Thomas Hood



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