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 FYYF

Author 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 WillA
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I rule the roast as Milton says Caleb QuotemB
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Oh multifarious manC
Thou Wondrous Admirable Kitchen CrichtonD
Born to enlightenD
The laws of Optics Peptics Music CookingE
Master of the Piano and the PanC
As busy with the kitchen as the skiesF
Now lookingE
At some rich stew thro' Galileo's eyesF
Or boiling eggs timed to a metronomeB
As much at homeB
In spectacles as in mere isinglassF
In the art of frying brown as a digressionD
On music and poetical expressionD
Whereas how few of all our cooks alasF
Could tell Calliope from CallipeeG
How few there beH
Could leave the lowest for the highest stories ObservatoriesF
And turn like thee Diana's calculatorI
However cook's synonymous with KaterI
Alas still let me sayF
How few could layF
The carving knife beside the tuning forkJ
Like the proverbial Jack ready for any workK
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IIL
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Oh to behold thy features in thy bookM
Thy proper head and shoulders in a plateN
How it would lookM
With one rais'd eye watching the dial's dateN
And one upon the roast gently cast downO
Thy chops done nicely brownO
The garnish'd brow with a few leaves of bayF
The hair done Wiggy's wayF
And still one studious finger near thy brainsF
As if thou wert just comeB
From editing someB
New soup or hashing Dibdin's cold remainsF
Or Orpheus like fresh from thy dying strainsF
Of music Epping luxuries of soundP
As Milton says in many a boutQ
Of linked sweetness long drawn outQ
Whilst all thy tame stuff'd leopards listen'd roundP
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IIIL
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Oh rather thy whole proper length revealR
Standing like Fortune on the jack thy wheelR
Thou art like Fortune full of chops and changesF
Thou hast a fillet too before thine eyeS
Scanning our kitchen and our vocal rangesF
As tho' it were the same to sing or fryS
Nay so it is hear how Miss Paton's throatT
Makes fritters of a noteT
And how Tom Cook Fryer and Singer bornU
By name and nature oh how night and mornU
He for the nicest public taste doth dish upG
The good things from that Pan of music BishopG
And is not reading near akin to feedingE
Or why should Oxford Sausages be fitV
Receptacles for witV
Or why should Cambridge put its little smartW
Minc'd brains into a TartW
Nay then thou wert but wise to frame receiptsF
Book treatsF
Equally to instruct the Cook and cram herI
Receipts to be devour'd as well as readX
The Culinary Art in gingerbreadX
The Kitchen's Eaten GrammarI
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IVY
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Oh very pleasant is thy motley pageZ
Aye very pleasant in its chatty veinA2
So in a kitchen would have talk'd MontaigneA2
That merry Gascon humorist and sageZ
Let slender minds with single themes engageZ
Like Mr Bowles with his eternal PopeG
Or Haydon on perpetual Haydon orB2
Hume on Twice three make fourB2
Or Lovelass upon Wills Thou goest onA2
Plaiting ten topics like Tate WilkinsonA2
Thy brain is like a rich KaleidoscopeG
Stuff'd with a brilliant medley of odd bitsF
And ever shifting on from change to changeC2
Saucepans old Songs Pills Spectacles and SpitsF
Thy range is wider than a Rumford RangeC2
Thy grasp a miracle till I recallD2
Th' indubitable cause of thy varietyH
Thou art of course th' Epitome of allD2
That spying frying singing mix'd SocietyH
Of Scientific Friends who used to meetE2
Welch Rabbits and thyself in Warren StreetE2
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VH
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Oh hast thou still those ConversazioniA2
Where learned visitors discoursed and fedX
There came BelzoniA2
Fresh from the ashes of Egyptian deadX
And gentle Poki and that Royal PairF2
Of whom thou didst declareF2
Thanks to the greatest Cooke we ever readX
They were what Sandwiches should be half bredX
There fam'd M'Adam from his manual toilG2
Relax'd and freely own'd he took thy hintsF
On making Broth with FlintsF
There Parry came and show'd thee polar oilG2
For melted butter Combe with his medullaryF2
Notions about the SkulleryF2
And Mr Poole too partial to a broilG2
There witty Rogers came that punning elfY
Who used to swear thy bookM
Would really lookM
A Delphic Oracle if laid on DelfY
There once a month came Campbell and discuss'dH2
His own and thy own Magazine of TasteI2
There Wilberforce the JustH2
Came in his old black suit till once he trac'dI2
Thy sly advice to Poachers of Black FolksF
That do not break their yolksF
Which huff'd him home in grave disgust and hasteI2
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VIY
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There came John Clare the poet nor forboreF2
Thy Patties thou wert hand and glove with MooreF2
Who call'd thee Kitchen Addison for whyY
Thou givest rules for Health and Peptic PillsF
Forms for made dishes and receipts for WillsF
Teaching us how to live and how to dieY
There came thy Cousin Cook good Mrs FryY
There Trench the Thames Projector first brought onA2
His sine Quay nonA2
There Martin would drop in on Monday evesF
Or Fridays from the pens and raise his breathJ2
'Gainst cattle days and deathJ2
Answer'd by Mellish feeder of fat beevesF
Who swore that Frenchmen never could be eagerF2
For fighting on soup meagreF2
And yet as thou would'st add the French have seenA2
A Marshall TureenA2
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VIIY
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Great was thy Evening Cluster often grac'dI2
With Dollond Burgess and Sir Humphry DavyY
'Twas there M'Dermot first inclin'd to TasteI2
There Colborn learn'd the art of making pasteI2
For puffs and Accum analyzed a gravyY
Colman the Cutter of Coleman Street 'tis saidX
Came there and Parkins with his Ex wise headX
His claim to letters Kater too the Moon'sF
Crony and Graham lofty on balloonsF
There Croly stalk'd with holy humor heatedK2
Who wrote a light horse play which Yates completedK2
And Lady Morgan that grinding organA2
And Brasbridge telling anecdotes of spoonsF
Madame Valbr que thrice honor'd thee and cameB
With great Rossini his own bow and fiddleL2
The Dibdins Tom Charles Frognall came with tunsF
Of poor old books old punsF
And even Irving spar'd a night from fameB
And talk'd till thou didst stop him in the middleL2
To serve round Tewah diddleL2
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VIIIY
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Then all the guests rose up and sighed good byeY
So let them thou thyself art still a HostM2
Dibdin Cornaro Newton Mrs FryY
Mrs Glasse Mr Spec Lovelass and WeberF2
Matthews in Quot'em Moore's fire worshipping GheberF2
Thrice worthy Worthy seem by thee engross'dM2
Howbeit the Peptic Cook still rules the roastM2
Potent to hush all ventriloquial snarlingE
And ease the bosom pangs of indigestionA2
Thou art sans questionA2
The Corporation's love its Doctor DarlingE
Look at the Civic Palate nay the BedX
Which set dear Mrs Opie on supplyingE
Illustrations of LyingE
Ninety square feet of down from heel to headX
It measured and I dreadX
Was haunted by a terrible night MareF2
A monstrous burthen on the corporationA2
Look at the Bill of Fare for one day's shareF2
Sea turtles by the score Oxen by drovesF
Geese turkeys by the flock fishes and loavesF
Countless as when the Lilliputian nationA2
Was making up the huge man mountain's rationA2
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IXF
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Oh worthy Doctor surely thou hast drivenA2
The squatting Demon from great Garratt's breastN2
His honor seems to restN2
And what is thy reward Hath London givenA2
Thee public thanks for thy important serviceF
Alas not evenA2
The tokens it bestowed on Howe and JervisF
Yet could I speak as Orators should speakO2
Before the worshipful the Common CouncilL2
Utter my bold bad grammar and pronounce illL2
Thou should'st not miss thy Freedom for a weekO2
Richly engross'd on vellum Reason urgesF
That he who rules our cookery that heY
Who edits soups and gravies ought to beY
A Citizen where sauce can make a BurgessF

Thomas Hood



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