The Fudge Family In Paris Letter Iv. From Phelim Connor To ---- Poem Rhyme Scheme

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Return no never while the withering hand	A
Of bigot power is on that hapless land	A
While for the faith my fathers held to God	B
Even in the fields where free those fathers trod	B
I am proscribed and like the spot left bare	C
In Israel's halls to tell the proud and fair	C
Amidst their mirth that Slavery had been there	C
On all I love home parents friends I trace	D
The mournful mark of bondage and disgrace	D
No let them stay who in their country's pangs	E
See naught but food for factions and harangues	E
Who yearly kneel before their masters' doors	F
And hawk their wrongs as beggars do their sores	F
Still let your	G
	H
Still hope and suffer all who can but I	I
Who durst not hope and cannot bear must fly	I
	-
But whither every where the scourge pursues	J
Turn where he will the wretched wanderer views	J
In the bright broken hopes of all his race	D
Countless reflections of the Oppressor's face	D
Every where gallant hearts and spirits true	K
Are served up victims to the vile and few	K
While England every where the general foe	L
Of Truth and Freedom wheresoe'er they glow	L
Is first when tyrants strike to aid the blow	L
	-
Oh England could such poor revenge atone	M
For wrongs that well might claim the deadliest one	N
Were it a vengeance sweet enough to sate	O
The wretch who flies from thy intolerant hate	O
To hear his curses on such barbarous sway	P
Echoed where'er he bends his cheerless way	P
Could this content him every lip he meets	Q
Teems for his vengeance with such poisonous sweets	Q
Were this his luxury never is thy name	R
Pronounced but he doth banquet on thy shame	R
Hears maledictions ring from every side	S
Upon that grasping power that selfish pride	S
Which vaunts its own and scorns all rights beside	S
That low and desperate envy which to blast	T
A neighbor's blessings risks the few thou hast	T
That monster Self too gross to be concealed	U
Which ever lurks behind thy proffered shield	U
That faithless craft which in thy hour of need	V
Can court the slave can swear he shall be freed	V
Yet basely spurns him when thy point is gained	W
Back to his masters ready gagged and chained	W
Worthy associate of that band of Kings	X
That royal ravening flock whose vampire wings	X
O'er sleeping Europe treacherously brood	Y
And fan her into dreams of promist good	Z
Of hope of freedom but to drain her blood	A2
If thus to hear thee branded be a bliss	B2
That Vengeance loves there's yet more sweet than this	B2
That 'twas an Irish head an Irish heart	C2
Made thee the fallen and tarnisht thing thou art	C2
That as the centaur gave the infected vest	D2
In which he died to rack his conqueror's breast	D2
We sent thee CASTLEREAGH as heaps of dead	E2
Have slain their slayers by the pest they spread	E2
So hath our land breathed out thy fame to dim	F2
Thy strength to waste and rot thee soul and limb	F2
Her worst infections all condensed in him	F2
	-
	-
	-
When will the world shake off such yokes oh when	G2
Will that redeeming day shine out on men	G2
That shall behold them rise erect and free	H2
As Heaven and Nature meant mankind should be	H2
When Reason shall no longer blindly bow	I2
To the vile pagod things that o'er her brow	I2
Like him of Jaghernaut drive trampling now	I2
Nor Conquest dare to desolate God's earth	J2
Nor drunken Victory with a NERO'S mirth	J2
Strike her lewd harp amidst a people's groans	K2
But built on love the world's exalted thrones	K2
Shall to the virtuous and the wise be given	N
Those bright those sole Legitimates of Heaven	N
	-
When will this be or oh is it in truth	L2
But one of those sweet day break dreams of youth	L2
In which the Soul as round her morning springs	K2
'Twixt sleep and waking see such dazzling things	K2
And must the hope as vain as it is bright	M2
Be all resigned and are they only right	M2
Who say this world of thinking souls was made	N2
To be by Kings partitioned truckt and weighed	N2
In scales that ever since the world begun	N
Have counted millions but as dust to one	N
Are they the only wise who laugh to scorn	O2
The rights the freedom to which man was born	O2
Who	K
	-
Who proud to kiss each separate rod of power	P2
Bless while he reigns the minion of the hour	P2
Worship each would be god that o'er them moves	K2
And take the thundering of his brass for JOVE'S	K2
If this be wisdom then farewell my books	K2
Farewell ye shrines of old ye classic brooks	K2
Which fed my soul with currents pure and fair	C
Of living Truth that now must stagnate there	C
Instead of themes that touch the lyre with light	M2
Instead of Greece and her immortal fight	M2
For Liberty which once awaked my strings	K2
Welcome the Grand Conspiracy of Kings	K2
The High Legitimates the Holy Band	A
Who bolder' even than He of Sparta's land	A
Against whole millions panting to be free	H2
Would guard the pass of right line tyranny	H2
Instead of him the Athenian bard whose blade	N2
Had stood the onset which his pen portrayed	N2
Welcome	Q2
	-
And 'stead of ARISTIDES woe the day	P
Such names should mingle welcome Castlereagh	L
	-
Here break we off at this unhallowed name	R
Like priests of old when words ill omened came	R
My next shall tell thee bitterly shall tell	R2
Thoughts that	S2
	-
Thoughts that could patience hold 'twere wiser far	T2
To leave still hid and burning where they are	T2

Thomas Moore

The Fudge Family In Paris Letter Iv. From Phelim Connor To ---- Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis

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