The Song Of The Box. Poem Rhyme Scheme

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Let History boast of her Romans and Spartans	A
And tell how they stood against tyranny's shock	B
They were all I confess in my eye Betty Martins	A
Compared to George Grote and his wonderful Box	A
	-
Ask where Liberty now has her seat Oh it isn't	C
By Delaware's banks or on Switzerland's rocks	A
Like an imp in some conjuror's bottle imprisoned	D
She's slyly shut up in Grote's wonderful Box	A
	-
How snug 'stead of floating thro' ether's dominions	A
Blown this way and that by the populi vox	A
To fold thus in silence her sinecure pinions	A
And go fast asleep in Grote's wonderful Box	A
	-
Time was when free speech was the life breath of freedom	E
So thought once the Seldens the Hampdens the Lockes	A
But mute be our troops when to ambush we lead 'em	E
For Mum is the word with us Knights of the Box	A
	-
Pure exquisite Box no corruption can soil it	F
There's Otto of Rose in each breath it unlocks	A
While Grote is the Betty that serves at the toilet	G
And breathes all Arabia around from his Box	A
	-
'Tis a singular fact that the famed Hugo Grotius	A
A namesake of Grote's being both of Dutch stocks	A
Like Grote too a genius profound as precocious	A
Was also like him much renowned for a Box	A
	-
An immortal old clothes box in which the great Grotius	A
When suffering in prison for views heterodox	A
Was packt up incog spite of jailers ferocious	A
And sent to his wife carriage free in a Box	A
	-
But the fame of old Hugo now rests on the shelf	H
Since a rival hath risen that all parallel mocks	A
That Grotius ingloriously saved but himself	H
While ours saves the whole British realm by a Box	A
	-
And oh when at last even this greatest of Grotes	A
Must bend to the Power that at every door knocks	A
May he drop in the urn like his own silent votes	A
And the tomb of his rest be a large Ballot Box	A
	-
While long at his shrine both from county and city	I
Shall pilgrims triennially gather in flocks	A
And sing while they whimper the appropriate ditty	I
Oh breathe not his name let it sleep in the Box	A

Thomas Moore

The Song Of The Box. Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis

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