Song Of The Church. No. 1. Leave Me Alone. A Pastoral Ballad Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis
Rhyme Scheme: AB CDCDEAEA FGFGHAHA IJIJKAKA LMLMNONA PQPQRASA TUTUFAFA| We are ever standing on the defensive All that we say to them is 'leave us alone ' The Established Church is part and parcel of the constitution of this country You are bound to conform to this constitution We ask of you nothing more let us alone | A |
| Letter in The Times Nov | B |
| - | |
| - | |
| - | |
| Come list to my pastoral tones | C |
| In clover my shepherds I keep | D |
| My stalls are well furnisht with drones | C |
| Whose preaching invites one to sleep | D |
| At my spirit let infidels scoff | E |
| So they leave but the substance my own | A |
| For in sooth I'm extremely well off | E |
| If the world will but let me alone | A |
| - | |
| Dissenters are grumblers we know | F |
| Tho' excellent men in their way | G |
| They never like things to be so | F |
| Let things be however they may | G |
| But dissenting's a trick I detest | H |
| And besides 'tis an axiom well known | A |
| The creed that's best paid is the best | H |
| If the unpaid would let it alone | A |
| - | |
| To me I own very surprising | I |
| Your Newmans and Puseys all seem | J |
| Who start first with rationalizing | I |
| Then jump to the other extreme | J |
| Far better 'twixt nonsense and sense | K |
| A nice half way concern like our own | A |
| Where piety's mixt up with pence | K |
| And the latter are ne'er left alone | A |
| - | |
| Of all our tormentors the Press is | L |
| The one that most tears us to bits | M |
| And now Mrs Woolfrey's excesses | L |
| Have thrown all its imps into fits | M |
| The devils have been at us for weeks | N |
| And there's no saying when they'll have done | O |
| Oh dear how I wish Mr Breeks | N |
| Had left Mrs Woolfrey alone | A |
| - | |
| If any need pray for the dead | P |
| 'Tis those to whom post obits fall | Q |
| Since wisely hath Solomon said | P |
| 'Tis money that answereth all | Q |
| But ours be the patrons who live | R |
| For once in their glebe they are thrown | A |
| The dead have no living to give | S |
| And therefore we leave them alone | A |
| - | |
| Tho' in morals we may not excel | T |
| Such perfection is rare to be had | U |
| A good life is of course very well | T |
| But good living is also not bad | U |
| And when to feed earth worms I go | F |
| Let this epitaph stare from my stone | A |
| Here lies the Right Rev so and so | F |
| Pass stranger and leave him alone | A |
Thomas Moore
(1)
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