Ode To The Great Unknown.[1] Poem Rhyme Scheme

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Thomas Hood

Ode To The Great Unknown.[1] Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis

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O breathe not his name Moore	A
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I	-
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Thou Great Unknown	B
I do not mean Eternity nor Death	C
That vast incog	D
For I suppose thou hast a living breath	C
Howbeit we know not from whose lungs 'tis blown	B
Thou man of fog	D
Parent of many children child of none	E
Nobody's son	E
Nobody's daughter but a parent still	F
Still but an ostrich parent of a batch	G
Of orphan eggs left to the world to hatch	G
Superlative Nil	F
A vox and nothing more yet not Vauxhall	H
A head in papers yet without a curl	I
Not the Invisible Girl	I
No hand but a handwriting on a wall	H
A popular nonentity	J
Still call'd the same without identity	J
A lark heard out of sight	K
A nothing shin'd upon invisibly bright	K
Dark with excess of light	K
Constable's literary John a nokes	L
The real Scottish wizard and not which	M
Nobody in a niche	M
Every one's hoax	L
Maybe Sir Walter Scott	N
Perhaps not	N
Why dost thou so conceal and puzzle curious folks	L
	-
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II	-
	-
Thou whom the second sighted never saw	O
The Master Fiction of fictitious history	J
Chief Nong tong paw	O
No mister in the world and yet all mystery	J
The tricksy spirit of a Scotch Cock Lane	P
A novel Junius puzzling the world's brain	P
A man of Magic yet no talisman	E
A man of clair obscure not he o' the moon	Q
A star at noon	Q
A non descriptus in a caravan	R
A private of no corps a northern light	K
In a dark lantern Bogie in a crape	O
A figure but no shape	O
A vizor and no knight	K
The real abstract hero of the age	S
The staple Stranger of the stage	S
A Some One made in every man's presumption	E
Frankenstein's monster but instinct with gumption	E
Another strange state captive in the north	T
Constable guarded in an iron mask	D
Still let me ask	D
Hast thou no silver platter	U
No door plate or no card or some such matter	U
To scrawl a name upon and then cast forth	T
	-
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III	-
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Thou Scottish Barmecide feeding the hunger	U
Of Curiosity with airy gammon	E
Thou mystery monger	U
Dealing it out like middle cut of salmon	E
That people buy and can't make head or tail of it	V
Howbeit that puzzle never hurts the sale of it	V
Thou chief of authors mystic and abstractical	H
That lay their proper bodies on the shelf	W
Keeping thyself so truly to thyself	W
Thou Zimmerman made practical	H
Thou secret fountain of a Scottish style	H
That like the Nile	H
Hideth its source wherever it is bred	X
But still keeps disemboguing	D
Not disembroguing	D
Thro' such broad sandy mouths without a head	X
Thou disembodied author not yet dead	X
The whole world's literary Absentee	J
Ah wherefore hast thou fled	X
Thou learned Nemo wise to a degree	J
Anonymous LL D	J
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IV	W
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Thou nameless captain of the nameless gang	D
That do and inquests cannot say who did it	V
Wert thou at Mrs Donatty's death pang	D
Hast thou made gravy of Weare's watch or hid it	V
Hast thou a Blue Beard chamber Heaven forbid it	V
I should be very loth to see thee hang	D
I hope thou hast an alibi well plann'd	Y
An innocent altho' an ink black hand	Y
Tho' that hast newly turn'd thy private bolt on	Z
The curiosity of all invaders	A2
I hope thou art merely closeted with Colton	E
Who knows a little of the Holy Land	Y
Writing thy next new novel The Crusaders	A2
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V	W
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Perhaps thou wert even born	B2
To be Unknown Perhaps hung some foggy morn	B2
At Captain Coram's charitable wicket	C2
Pinn'd to a ticket	C2
That Fate had made illegible foreseeing	D
The future great unmentionable being	D
Perhaps thou hast ridden	E
A scholar poor on St Augustine's Back	D
Like Chatterton and found a dusty pack	D
Of Rowley novels in an old chest hidden	E
A little hoard of clever simulation	E
That took the town and Constable has bidden	D2
Some hundred pounds for a continuation	E
To keep and clothe thee in genteel starvation	E
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VI	W
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I like thy Waverley first of thy breeding	D
I like its modest sixty years ago	D
As if it was not meant for ages' reading	D
I don't like Ivanhoe	D
Tho' Dymoke does it makes him think of clattering	D
In iron overalls before the king	D
Secure from battering to ladies flattering	D
Tuning his challenge to the gauntlet's ring	D
Oh better far than all that anvil clang	D
It was to hear thee touch the famous string	D
Of Robin Hood's tough bow and make it twang	D
Rousing him up all verdant with his clan	R
Like Sagittarian Pan	R
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VII	W
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I like Guy Mannering but not that sham son	E
Of Brown I like that literary Sampson	E
Nine tenths a Dyer with a smack of Porson	E
I like Dirk Hatteraick that rough sea Orson	E
That slew the Gauger	U
And Dandie Dinmont like old Ursa Major	U
And Merrilies young Bertram's old defender	U
That Scottish Witch of Endor	U
That doom'd thy fame She was the Witch I take it	V
To tell a great man's fortune or to make it	V
	-
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VIII	W
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I like thy Antiquary With his fit on	E
He makes me think of Mr Britton	E
I like thy Antiquary With Ins fit on	E
It makes me think	D
Who has or had within his garden wall	H
A miniature Stone Henge so very small	H
That sparrows find it difficult to sit on	E
And Dousterwivel like Poyais' M'Gregor	U
And Edie Ochiltree that old Blue Beggar	U
Painted so cleverly	W
I think thou surely knowest Mrs Beverly	W
I like thy Barber him that fir'd the Beacon	E
But that's a tender subject now to speak on	E
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IX	A2
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I like long arm'd Rob Roy His very charms	A2
Fashion'd him for renown In sad sincerity	W
The man that robs or writes must have long arms	A2
If he's to hand his deeds down to posterity	W
Witness Miss Biffin's posthumous prosperity	W
Her poor brown crumpled mummy nothing more	U
Bearing the name she bore	U
A thing Time's tooth is tempted to destroy	U
But Roys can never die why else in verity	W
Is Paris echoing with Vive le Roy	U
Aye Rob shall live again and deathless Di	W
Vernon of course shall often live again	E
Whilst there's a stone in Newgate or a chain	E
Who can pass by	W
Nor feel the Thief's in prison and at hand	Y
There be Old Bailey Jarvies on the stand	Y
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X	A2
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I like thy Landlord's Tales I like that Idol	H
Of love and Lammermoor the blue eyed maid	E2
That led to church the mounted cavalcade	E2
And then pull'd up with such a bloody bridal	H
Throwing equestrian Hymen on his haunches	A2
I like the family not silver branches	A2
That hold the tapers	A2
To light the serious legend of Montrose	A2
I like M'Aulay's second sighted vapors	A2
As if he could not walk or talk alone	E
Without the devil or the Great Unknown	E
Dalgetty is the dearest of Ducrows	A2
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XI	A2
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I like St Leonard's Lily drench'd with dew	F2
I like thy Vision of the Covenanters	A2
That bloody minded Grahame shot and slew	F2
I like the battle lost and won	E
The hurly burlys bravely done	E
The warlike gallop and the warlike canters	A2
I like that girded chieftain of the ranters	A2
Ready to preach down heathens or to grapple	H
With one eye on his sword	G2
And one upon the Word	H2
How he would cram the Caledonian Chapel	H
I like stern Claverhouse though he cloth dapple	H
His raven steed with blood of many a corse	A2
I like dear Mrs Headrigg that unravels	A2
Her texts of scripture on a trotting horse	A2
She is so like Rae Wilson when he travels	A2
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XII	A2
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I like thy Kenilworth but I'm not going	D
To take a Retrospective Re Review	F2
Of all thy dainty novels merely showing	D
The old familiar faces of a few	F2
The question to renew	F2
How thou canst leave such deeds without a name	I2
Forego the unclaim'd Dividends of fame	I2
Forego the smiles of literary houris	A2
Mid Lothian's trump and Fife's shrill note of praise	A2
And all the Carse of Gowrie's	A2
When thou might'st have thy statue in Cromarty	H2
Or see thy image on Italian trays	A2
Betwixt Queen Caroline and Buonapart	H2
Be painted by the Titian of R A's	A2
Or vie in signboards with the Royal Guelph	F2
P'rhaps have thy bust set cheek by jowl with Homer's	A2
P'rhaps send out plaster proxies of thyself	F2
To other Englands with Australian roamers	A2
Mayhap in Literary Owhyhee	D
Displace the native wooden gods or be	A2
The china Lar of a Canadian shelf	F2
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XIII	A2
	-
It is not modesty that bids thee hide	H2
She never wastes her blushes out of sight	H2
It is not to invite	H2
The world's decision for thy fame is tried	H2
And thy fair deeds are scatter'd far and wide	H2
Even royal heads are with thy readers reckon'd	H2
From men in trencher caps to trencher scholars	A2
In crimson collars	A2
And learned serjeants in the Forty Second	H2
Whither by land or sea art thou not beckon'd	H2
Mayhap exported from the Frith of Forth	T
Defying distance and its dim control	H
Perhaps read about Stromness and reckon'd worth	J2
A brace of Miltons for capacious soul	H
Perhaps studied in the whalers further north	T
And set above ten Shakspeares near the pole	H
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XIV	F2
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Oh when thou writest by Aladdin's lamp	O
With such a giant genius at command	H2
Forever at thy stamp	O
To fill thy treasury from Fairy Land	H2
When haply thou might'st ask the pearly hand	H2
Of some great British Vizier's eldest daughter	U
Tho' princes sought her	U
And lead her in procession hymeneal	H
Oh why dost thou remain a Beau Ideal	H
Why stay a ghost on the Lethean Wharf	F2
Envelop'd in Scotch mist and gloomy fogs	A2
Why but because thou art some puny Dwarf	F2
Some hopeless Imp like Biquet with the Tuft	H2
Fearing for all thy wit to be rebuff'd	H2
Or bullied by our great reviewing Gogs	A2
	-
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XV	F2
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What in this masquing age	S
Maketh Unknowns so many and so shy	W
What but the critic's page	S
One hath a cast he hides from the world's eye	W
Another hath a wen he won't show where	U
A third has sandy hair	U
A hunch upon his back or legs awry	W
Things for a vile reviewer to espy	A2
Another hath a mangel wurzel nose	A2
Finally this is dimpled	H2
Like a pale crumpet face or that is pimpled	H2
Things for a monthly critic to expose	A2
Nay what is thy own case that being small	H
Thou choosest to be nobody at all	H
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XVI	F2
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Well thou art prudent with such puny bones	A2
E'en like Elshender the mysterious elf	F2
That shadowy revelation of thyself	F2
To build thee a small hut of haunted stones	A2
For certainly the first pernicious man	E
That ever saw thee would quickly draw thee	A2
In some vile literary caravan	E
Shown for a shilling	D
Would be thy killing	D
Think of Crachami's miserable span	E
No tinier frame the tiny spark could dwell in	E
Than there it fell in	E
But when she felt herself a show she tried	H2
To shrink from the world's eye poor dwarf and died	H2
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XVII	F2
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O since it was thy fortune to be born	E
A dwarf on some Scotch Inch and then to flinch	K2
From all the Gog like jostle of great men	E
Still with thy small crow pen	E
Amuse and charm thy lonely hours forlorn	E
Still Scottish story daintily adorn	E
Be still a shade and when this age is fled	H2
When we poor sons and daughters of reality	A2
Are in our graves forgotten and quite dead	H2
And Time destroys our mottoes of morality	A2
The lithographic hand of Old Mortality	A2
Shall still restore thy emblem on the stone	E
A featureless death's head	H2
And rob Oblivion ev'n of the Unknown	E