Epistle From Tom Crib To Big Ben.[1] Concerning Some Foul Play In A Late Transaction.[2] Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis
Rhyme Scheme: AB CCAADDD EEFFGGHI JKLLMMNNOOPPQQRRSTAA UU| Ahi mio Ben | A |
| METASTASIO | B |
| - | |
| - | |
| What BEN my old hero is this your renown | C |
| Is this the new go kick a man when he's down | C |
| When the foe has knockt under to tread on him then | A |
| By the fist of my father I blush for thee BEN | A |
| Foul foul all the lads of the Fancy exclaim | D |
| CHARLEY SHOCK is electrified BELCHER spits flame | D |
| And MOLYNEUX ay even BLACKY cries shame | D |
| - | |
| Time was when JOHN BULL little difference spied | E |
| 'Twixt the foe at his feet and the friend at his side | E |
| When he found such his humor in fighting and eating | F |
| His foe like his beef steak the sweeter for beating | F |
| But this comes Master BEN of your curst foreign notions | G |
| Your trinkets wigs thingumbobs gold lace and lotions | G |
| Your Noyaus Curacoas and the devil knows what | H |
| One swig of Blue Ruin is worth the whole lot | I |
| - | |
| Your great and small crosses my eyes what a brood | J |
| A cross buttock from me would do some of them good | K |
| Which have spoilt you till hardly a drop my old porpoise | L |
| Of pure English claret is left in your corpus | L |
| And as JIM says the only one trick good or bad | M |
| Of the Fancy you're up to is fibbing my lad | M |
| Hence it comes BOXIANA disgrace to thy page | N |
| Having floored by good luck the first swell of the age | N |
| Having conquered the prime one that milled us all round | O |
| You kickt him old BEN as he gaspt on the ground | O |
| Ay just at the time to show spunk if you'd got any | P |
| Kickt him and jawed him and lagged him to Botany | P |
| Oh shade of the Cheesemonger you who alas | Q |
| Doubled up by the dozen those Moun seers in brass | Q |
| On that great day of milling when blood lay in lakes | R |
| When Kings held the bottle and Europe the stakes | R |
| Look down upon BEN see him dung hill all o'er | S |
| Insult the fallen foe that can harm him no more | T |
| Out cowardly spooney again and again | A |
| By the fist of my father I blush for thee BEN | A |
| To show the white feather is many men's doom | U |
| But what of one feather BEN shows a whole Plume | U |
Thomas Moore
(1)
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