The Fudges In England. Letter Iii. From Miss Fanny Fudge, To Her Cousin, Miss Kitty ---- Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis
Rhyme Scheme: A B CDCDC EFEFG BHBHB I JKJKJ LMLMMNO LLLPPQQQ RRSSTTUUJVLLRRWWRRXX YYRRRRRRZZRRA2A2RRKK LL LLWB2WB2RRFGC2C2 XXD2E2F2F2QQLLRRROO RRWJG2G2JQRQR H2LH2LRRI2I2OOQQQOOF 2RF2R J2J2YYC2C2K2K2K2LRL L2 OOM2M2OON2N2N2STANZAS ENCLOSED | A |
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TO MY SHADOW OR WHY WHAT HOW | B |
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Dark comrade of my path while earth and sky | C |
Thus wed their charms in bridal light arrayed | D |
Why in this bright hour walkst thou ever nigh | C |
Blackening my footsteps with thy length of shade | D |
Dark comrade WHY | C |
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Thou mimic Shape that mid these flowery scenes | E |
Glidest beside me o'er each sunny spot | F |
Saddening them as thou goest say what means | E |
So dark an adjunct to so bright a lot | F |
Grim goblin WHAT | G |
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Still as to pluck sweet flowers I bend my brow | B |
Thou bendest too then risest when I rise | H |
Say mute mysterious Thing how is't that thou | B |
Thus comest between me and those blessed skies | H |
Dim shadow HOW | B |
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ADDITIONAL STANZA BY ANOTHER HAND | I |
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Thus said I to that Shape far less in grudge | J |
Than gloom of soul while as I eager cried | K |
Oh Why What How a Voice that one might judge | J |
To be some Irish echo's faint replied | K |
Oh fudge fudge fudge | J |
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You have here dearest Coz my last lyric effusion | L |
And with it that odious additional stanza | M |
Which Aunt will insist I must keep as conclusion | L |
And which you'll at once see is Mr Magan's a | M |
Most cruel and dark designed extravaganza | M |
And part of that plot in which he and my Aunt are | N |
To stifle the flights of my genius by banter | O |
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Just so 'twas with Byron's young eagle eyed strain | L |
Just so did they taunt him but vain critics vain | L |
All your efforts to saddle Wit's fire with a chain | L |
To blot out the splendor of Fancy's young stream | P |
Or crop in its cradle her newly fledged beam | P |
Thou perceivest dear that even while these lines I indite | Q |
Thoughts burn brilliant fancies break out wrong or right | Q |
And I'm all over poet in Criticism's spite | Q |
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That my Aunt who deals only in Psalms and regards | R |
Messrs Sternhold and Co as the first of all bards | R |
That she should make light of my works I can't blame | S |
But that nice handsome odious Magan what a shame | S |
Do you know dear that high as on most points I rate him | T |
I'm really afraid after all I must hate him | T |
He is so provoking naught's safe from his tongue | U |
He spares no one authoress ancient or young | U |
Were you Sappho herself and in Keepsake or Bijou | J |
Once shone as contributor Lord how he'd quiz you | V |
He laughs at all Monthlies I've actually seen | L |
A sneer on his brow at The Court Magazine | L |
While of Weeklies poor things there's but one he peruses | R |
And buys every book which that Weekly abuses | R |
But I care not how others such sarcasm may fear | W |
One spirit at least will not bend to his sneer | W |
And tho' tried by the fire my young genius shall burn as | R |
Uninjured as crucified gold in the furnace | R |
I suspect the word crucified must be made crucible | X |
Before this fine image of mine is producible | X |
And now dear to tell you a secret which pray | Y |
Only trust to such friends as with safety you may | Y |
You know and indeed the whole country suspects | R |
Tho' the Editor often my best things rejects | R |
That the verses signed so symbol hand which you now and then see | R |
In our County Gazette vide last are by me | R |
But 'tis dreadful to think what provoking mistakes | R |
The vile country Press in one's prosody makes | R |
For you know dear I may without vanity hint | Z |
Tho' an angel should write still 'tis devils must print | Z |
And you can't think what havoc these demons sometimes | R |
Choose to make of one's sense and what's worse of one's rhymes | R |
But a week or two since in my Ode upon Spring | A2 |
Which I meant to have made a most beautiful thing | A2 |
Where I talkt of the dewdrops from freshly blown roses | R |
The nasty things made it from freshly blown noses | R |
And once when to please my cross Aunt I had tried | K |
To commemorate some saint of her cligue who'd just died | K |
Having said he had taken up in heaven his position | L |
They made it he'd taken up to heaven his physician | L |
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This is very disheartening but brighter days shine | L |
I rejoice love to say both for me and the Nine | L |
For what do you think so delightful next year | W |
Oh prepare dearest girl for the grand news prepare | B2 |
I'm to write in The Keepsake yes Kitty my dear | W |
To write in The Keepsake as sure as you're there | B2 |
T' other night at a Ball 'twas my fortunate chance | R |
With a very nice elderly Dandy to dance | R |
Who 'twas plain from some hints which I now and then caught | F |
Was the author of something one couldn't tell what | G |
But his satisfied manner left no room to doubt | C2 |
It was something that Colburn had lately brought out | C2 |
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We conversed of belles lettres thro' all the quadrille | X |
Of poetry dancing of prose standing still | X |
Talkt of Intellect's march whether right 'twas or wrong | D2 |
And then settled the point in a bold en avant | E2 |
In the course of this talk 'twas that having just hinted | F2 |
That I too had Poems which longed to be printed | F2 |
He protested kind man he had seen at first sight | Q |
I was actually born in The Keepsake to write | Q |
In the Annals of England let some he said shine | L |
But a place in her Annuals Lady be thine | L |
Even now future 'Keepsakes' seem brightly to rise | R |
Thro' the vista of years as I gaze on those eyes | R |
All lettered and prest and of large paper size | R |
How unlike that Magan who my genius would smother | O |
And how we true geniuses find out each other | O |
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This and much more he said with that fine frenzied glance | R |
One so rarely now sees as we slid thro' the dance | R |
Till between us 'twas finally fixt that next year | W |
In this exquisite task I my pen should engage | J |
And at parting he stoopt down and lispt in my ear | G2 |
These mystical words which I could but just hear | G2 |
Terms for rhyme if it's prime ten and sixpence per page | J |
Think Kitty my dear if I heard his words right | Q |
What a mint of half guineas this small head contains | R |
If for nothing to write is itself a delight | Q |
Ye Gods what a bliss to be paid for one's strains | R |
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Having dropt the dear fellow a courtesy profound | H2 |
Off at once to inquire all about him I ran | L |
And from what I could learn do you know dear I've found | H2 |
That he's quite a new species of literary man | L |
One whose task is to what will not fashion accustom us | R |
To edit live authors as if they were posthumous | R |
For instance the plan to be sure is the oddest | I2 |
If any young he or she author feels modest | I2 |
In venturing abroad this kind gentleman usher | O |
Lends promptly a hand to the interesting blusher | O |
Indites a smooth Preface brings merit to light | Q |
Which else might by accident shrink out of sight | Q |
And in short renders readers and critics polite | Q |
My Aunt says tho' scarce on such points one can credit her | O |
He was Lady Jane Thingumbob's last novel's editor | O |
'Tis certain the fashion's but newly invented | F2 |
And quick as the change of all things and all names is | R |
Who knows but as authors like girls are presented | F2 |
We girls may be edited soon at St James's | R |
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I must now close my letter there's Aunt in full screech | J2 |
Wants to take me to hear some great Irvingite preach | J2 |
God forgive me I'm not much inclined I must say | Y |
To go and sit still to be preached at to day | Y |
And besides 'twill be all against dancing no doubt | C2 |
Which my poor Aunt abhors with such hatred devout | C2 |
That so far from presenting young nymphs with a head | K2 |
For their skill in the dance as of Herod is said | K2 |
She'd wish their own heads in the platter instead | K2 |
There again coming Ma'am I'll write more if I can | L |
Before the post goes | R |
Your affectionate Fan | L |
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Four o'clock | L2 |
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Such a sermon tho' not about dancing my dear | O |
'Twas only on the end of the world being near | O |
Eighteen Hundred and Forty's the year that some state | M2 |
As the time for that accident some Forty Eight | M2 |
And I own of the two I'd prefer much the latter | O |
As then I shall be an old maid and 'twon't matter | O |
Once more love good by I've to make a new cap | N2 |
But am now so dead tired with this horrid mishap | N2 |
Of the end of the world that I must take a nap | N2 |
Thomas Moore
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