Latest Accounts From Olympus Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis
Rhyme Scheme: AABBCC DEFFGD BBHHIIJJ BBKKLLBB MNOOPPQDDROSSTB JNJJUUUNNNNN UU| As news from Olympus has grown rather rare | A |
| Since bards in their cruises have ceased to touch there | A |
| We extract for our readers the intelligence given | B |
| In our latest accounts from that ci devant Heaven | B |
| That realm of the By gones where still sit in state | C |
| Old god heads and nod heads now long out of date | C |
| - | |
| Jove himself it appears since his love days are o'er | D |
| Seems to find immortality rather a bore | E |
| Tho' he still asks for news of earth's capers and crimes | F |
| And reads daily his old fellow Thunderer the Times | F |
| He and Vulcan it seems by their wives still hen peckt are | G |
| And kept on a stinted allowance of nectar | D |
| - | |
| Old Phoebus poor lad has given up inspiration | B |
| And packt off to earth on a puff speculation | B |
| The fact is he found his old shrines had grown dim | H |
| Since bards lookt to Bentley and Colburn not him | H |
| So he sold off his stud of ambrosia fed nags | I |
| Came incog down to earth and now writes for the Mags | I |
| Taking care that his work not a gleam hath to linger in't | J |
| From which men could guess that the god had a finger in't | J |
| - | |
| There are other small facts well deserving attention | B |
| Of which our Olympic despatches make mention | B |
| Poor Bacchus is still very ill they allege | K |
| Having never recovered the Temperance Pledge | K |
| What the Irish he cried those I lookt to the most | L |
| If they give up the spirit I give up the ghost | L |
| While Momus who used of the gods to make fun | B |
| Is turned Socialist now and declares there are none | B |
| - | |
| But these changes tho' curious are all a mere farce | M |
| Compared to the new casus belli of Mars | N |
| Who for years has been suffering the horrors of quiet | O |
| Uncheered by one glimmer of bloodshed or riot | O |
| In vain from the clouds his belligerent brow | P |
| Did he pop forth in hopes that somewhere or somehow | P |
| Like Pat at a fair he might coax up a row | Q |
| But the joke wouldn't take the whole world had got wiser | D |
| Men liked not to take a Great Gun for adviser | D |
| And still less to march in fine clothes to be shot | R |
| Without very well knowing for whom or for what | O |
| The French who of slaughter had had their full swing | S |
| Were content with a shot now and then at their King | S |
| While in England good fighting's a pastime so hard to gain | T |
| Nobody's left to fight with but Lord Cardigan | B |
| - | |
| 'Tis needless to say then how monstrously happy | J |
| Old Mars has been made by what's now on the tapis | N |
| How much it delights him to see the French rally | J |
| In Liberty's name around Mehemet Ali | J |
| Well knowing that Satan himself could not find | U |
| A confection of mischief much more to his mind | U |
| Than the old Bonnet Rouge and the Bashaw combined | U |
| Right well too he knows that there ne'er were attackers | N |
| Whatever their cause that they didn't find backers | N |
| While any slight care for Humanity's woes | N |
| May be soothed by that Art Diplomatique which shows | N |
| How to come in the most approved method to blows | N |
| - | |
| This is all for to day whether Mars is much vext | U |
| At his friend Thiers's exit we'll know by our next | U |
Thomas Moore
(1)
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