Ode To W. Kitchener, M.d.[1] Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis
Rhyme Scheme: A B CDDECFEFBBFDDFGHFIIF FJK L MNMNOOFFFBBFFPQQP L RRFSFSTTUUGGEVVWWFFI XXI Y ZA2A2ZZGB2B2A2A2GFC2 FC2D2HD2HE2E2 H A2XA2XF2F2XXG2FFG2F2 F2G2YMMYH2I2H2I2FFI2 Y F2F2YFFYYA2A2FJ2J2FF 2F2A2A2 Y I2YI2I2YXXFFK2K2A2FB L2FFBL2L2 Y YM2YF2F2M2M2EA2A2EXE EXXF2A2F2FFA2A2 F A2N2N2A2FA2FO2L2L2O2 FYYFAuthor Of The Cook's Oracle Observations On Vocal Music The Art Of Invigorating And Prolonging Life Practical Observations On Telescopes Opera Glasses And Spectacles The Housekeeper's Ledger And The Pleasure Of Making A Will | A |
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I rule the roast as Milton says Caleb Quotem | B |
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Oh multifarious man | C |
Thou Wondrous Admirable Kitchen Crichton | D |
Born to enlighten | D |
The laws of Optics Peptics Music Cooking | E |
Master of the Piano and the Pan | C |
As busy with the kitchen as the skies | F |
Now looking | E |
At some rich stew thro' Galileo's eyes | F |
Or boiling eggs timed to a metronome | B |
As much at home | B |
In spectacles as in mere isinglass | F |
In the art of frying brown as a digression | D |
On music and poetical expression | D |
Whereas how few of all our cooks alas | F |
Could tell Calliope from Callipee | G |
How few there be | H |
Could leave the lowest for the highest stories Observatories | F |
And turn like thee Diana's calculator | I |
However cook's synonymous with Kater | I |
Alas still let me say | F |
How few could lay | F |
The carving knife beside the tuning fork | J |
Like the proverbial Jack ready for any work | K |
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II | L |
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Oh to behold thy features in thy book | M |
Thy proper head and shoulders in a plate | N |
How it would look | M |
With one rais'd eye watching the dial's date | N |
And one upon the roast gently cast down | O |
Thy chops done nicely brown | O |
The garnish'd brow with a few leaves of bay | F |
The hair done Wiggy's way | F |
And still one studious finger near thy brains | F |
As if thou wert just come | B |
From editing some | B |
New soup or hashing Dibdin's cold remains | F |
Or Orpheus like fresh from thy dying strains | F |
Of music Epping luxuries of sound | P |
As Milton says in many a bout | Q |
Of linked sweetness long drawn out | Q |
Whilst all thy tame stuff'd leopards listen'd round | P |
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III | L |
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Oh rather thy whole proper length reveal | R |
Standing like Fortune on the jack thy wheel | R |
Thou art like Fortune full of chops and changes | F |
Thou hast a fillet too before thine eye | S |
Scanning our kitchen and our vocal ranges | F |
As tho' it were the same to sing or fry | S |
Nay so it is hear how Miss Paton's throat | T |
Makes fritters of a note | T |
And how Tom Cook Fryer and Singer born | U |
By name and nature oh how night and morn | U |
He for the nicest public taste doth dish up | G |
The good things from that Pan of music Bishop | G |
And is not reading near akin to feeding | E |
Or why should Oxford Sausages be fit | V |
Receptacles for wit | V |
Or why should Cambridge put its little smart | W |
Minc'd brains into a Tart | W |
Nay then thou wert but wise to frame receipts | F |
Book treats | F |
Equally to instruct the Cook and cram her | I |
Receipts to be devour'd as well as read | X |
The Culinary Art in gingerbread | X |
The Kitchen's Eaten Grammar | I |
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IV | Y |
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Oh very pleasant is thy motley page | Z |
Aye very pleasant in its chatty vein | A2 |
So in a kitchen would have talk'd Montaigne | A2 |
That merry Gascon humorist and sage | Z |
Let slender minds with single themes engage | Z |
Like Mr Bowles with his eternal Pope | G |
Or Haydon on perpetual Haydon or | B2 |
Hume on Twice three make four | B2 |
Or Lovelass upon Wills Thou goest on | A2 |
Plaiting ten topics like Tate Wilkinson | A2 |
Thy brain is like a rich Kaleidoscope | G |
Stuff'd with a brilliant medley of odd bits | F |
And ever shifting on from change to change | C2 |
Saucepans old Songs Pills Spectacles and Spits | F |
Thy range is wider than a Rumford Range | C2 |
Thy grasp a miracle till I recall | D2 |
Th' indubitable cause of thy variety | H |
Thou art of course th' Epitome of all | D2 |
That spying frying singing mix'd Society | H |
Of Scientific Friends who used to meet | E2 |
Welch Rabbits and thyself in Warren Street | E2 |
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V | H |
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Oh hast thou still those Conversazioni | A2 |
Where learned visitors discoursed and fed | X |
There came Belzoni | A2 |
Fresh from the ashes of Egyptian dead | X |
And gentle Poki and that Royal Pair | F2 |
Of whom thou didst declare | F2 |
Thanks to the greatest Cooke we ever read | X |
They were what Sandwiches should be half bred | X |
There fam'd M'Adam from his manual toil | G2 |
Relax'd and freely own'd he took thy hints | F |
On making Broth with Flints | F |
There Parry came and show'd thee polar oil | G2 |
For melted butter Combe with his medullary | F2 |
Notions about the Skullery | F2 |
And Mr Poole too partial to a broil | G2 |
There witty Rogers came that punning elf | Y |
Who used to swear thy book | M |
Would really look | M |
A Delphic Oracle if laid on Delf | Y |
There once a month came Campbell and discuss'd | H2 |
His own and thy own Magazine of Taste | I2 |
There Wilberforce the Just | H2 |
Came in his old black suit till once he trac'd | I2 |
Thy sly advice to Poachers of Black Folks | F |
That do not break their yolks | F |
Which huff'd him home in grave disgust and haste | I2 |
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VI | Y |
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There came John Clare the poet nor forbore | F2 |
Thy Patties thou wert hand and glove with Moore | F2 |
Who call'd thee Kitchen Addison for why | Y |
Thou givest rules for Health and Peptic Pills | F |
Forms for made dishes and receipts for Wills | F |
Teaching us how to live and how to die | Y |
There came thy Cousin Cook good Mrs Fry | Y |
There Trench the Thames Projector first brought on | A2 |
His sine Quay non | A2 |
There Martin would drop in on Monday eves | F |
Or Fridays from the pens and raise his breath | J2 |
'Gainst cattle days and death | J2 |
Answer'd by Mellish feeder of fat beeves | F |
Who swore that Frenchmen never could be eager | F2 |
For fighting on soup meagre | F2 |
And yet as thou would'st add the French have seen | A2 |
A Marshall Tureen | A2 |
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VII | Y |
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Great was thy Evening Cluster often grac'd | I2 |
With Dollond Burgess and Sir Humphry Davy | Y |
'Twas there M'Dermot first inclin'd to Taste | I2 |
There Colborn learn'd the art of making paste | I2 |
For puffs and Accum analyzed a gravy | Y |
Colman the Cutter of Coleman Street 'tis said | X |
Came there and Parkins with his Ex wise head | X |
His claim to letters Kater too the Moon's | F |
Crony and Graham lofty on balloons | F |
There Croly stalk'd with holy humor heated | K2 |
Who wrote a light horse play which Yates completed | K2 |
And Lady Morgan that grinding organ | A2 |
And Brasbridge telling anecdotes of spoons | F |
Madame Valbr que thrice honor'd thee and came | B |
With great Rossini his own bow and fiddle | L2 |
The Dibdins Tom Charles Frognall came with tuns | F |
Of poor old books old puns | F |
And even Irving spar'd a night from fame | B |
And talk'd till thou didst stop him in the middle | L2 |
To serve round Tewah diddle | L2 |
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VIII | Y |
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Then all the guests rose up and sighed good bye | Y |
So let them thou thyself art still a Host | M2 |
Dibdin Cornaro Newton Mrs Fry | Y |
Mrs Glasse Mr Spec Lovelass and Weber | F2 |
Matthews in Quot'em Moore's fire worshipping Gheber | F2 |
Thrice worthy Worthy seem by thee engross'd | M2 |
Howbeit the Peptic Cook still rules the roast | M2 |
Potent to hush all ventriloquial snarling | E |
And ease the bosom pangs of indigestion | A2 |
Thou art sans question | A2 |
The Corporation's love its Doctor Darling | E |
Look at the Civic Palate nay the Bed | X |
Which set dear Mrs Opie on supplying | E |
Illustrations of Lying | E |
Ninety square feet of down from heel to head | X |
It measured and I dread | X |
Was haunted by a terrible night Mare | F2 |
A monstrous burthen on the corporation | A2 |
Look at the Bill of Fare for one day's share | F2 |
Sea turtles by the score Oxen by droves | F |
Geese turkeys by the flock fishes and loaves | F |
Countless as when the Lilliputian nation | A2 |
Was making up the huge man mountain's ration | A2 |
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IX | F |
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Oh worthy Doctor surely thou hast driven | A2 |
The squatting Demon from great Garratt's breast | N2 |
His honor seems to rest | N2 |
And what is thy reward Hath London given | A2 |
Thee public thanks for thy important service | F |
Alas not even | A2 |
The tokens it bestowed on Howe and Jervis | F |
Yet could I speak as Orators should speak | O2 |
Before the worshipful the Common Council | L2 |
Utter my bold bad grammar and pronounce ill | L2 |
Thou should'st not miss thy Freedom for a week | O2 |
Richly engross'd on vellum Reason urges | F |
That he who rules our cookery that he | Y |
Who edits soups and gravies ought to be | Y |
A Citizen where sauce can make a Burgess | F |
Thomas Hood
(1)
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