Satyr Vi. The Spleen Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis
Rhyme Scheme: ABCDEEFFGGHCIJ GGKLLMMNOOLLGGMGGGGG GGG CCCGGLLGGCCCLLGGG LLCCCCGGPPPCCGGLLLOO CCQQ OGCCCRLGGSSLLGGGGOOO GTOUU OOOOO| Hail to the sacred silence of this Grove | A |
| Hail to the greens below the greens above | B |
| Oft have I found beneath these shady trees | C |
| A reall in imaginary bliss | D |
| for they my fancy sooth she's a cheat | E |
| Which can agreably adorn deceit | E |
| some state of life she draws with pleasing art | F |
| brings Enchanted reason to her part | F |
| Reason awhile is captive by consent | G |
| acts from all its rigid rules unbent | G |
| from our own selves conceales our reall case | H |
| Nor shows us what may be but what may please | C |
| When I by these am from my self with drawn | I |
| I straight become what ere I think upon | J |
| - | |
| Now do I turn a statesman of the rate | G |
| that furnishes the world beside with chat | G |
| I many use I make a friend of none | K |
| if I flatter tis my prince alone | L |
| Mankind well versd in various villany | L |
| Misrepresent each study'd Case to me | M |
| in long petitions a present fee | M |
| sayes one your Lordship has ye royall ear | N |
| I some articles against me fear | O |
| for sinking publick funds in such a year | O |
| Then on my chair he layes a bag of coin | L |
| Nor dares to offer what he woud have mine | L |
| Another cryes I want a place at Court | G |
| Your Lships word woud make ye buisness short | G |
| I present two hundred guinnys for't | M |
| This as I take it is a life of state | G |
| when I think of this I think Ime great | G |
| But now a leaf is noisy by my head | G |
| My chain is broke all my greatness fled | G |
| In vain I woud recall the vanishd thought | G |
| Something I know did please I cant tell what | G |
| as I hunt the traces of my mind | G |
| In a new whim a new delight I find | G |
| - | |
| Now among books my chief diversion lyes | C |
| I affect to be thought wondrous wise | C |
| in strange experiment discovery's | C |
| On All ye sorts shapes of flyes I read | G |
| Or print a book of shells as Lister did | G |
| when I meet a thing unknown till yn | L |
| I write for Holland to ye Learned men | L |
| the subtiltys of schooles with ease I cutt | G |
| Where learnings nothing but a meer dispute | G |
| With Ipse Dixit's fixd for arguments | C |
| quibbles formd by rules hid with pains | C |
| Waging a warr of words in spight of sense | C |
| My skill in many languages is shown | L |
| Altho' I gracefully can speak in none | L |
| No Cares no business do my brain molest | G |
| the world admires the treasures of my breast | G |
| I in barren satisfaction rest | G |
| - | |
| Here do I change Insensibly again | L |
| my gay fancy paints another scene | L |
| Heark or a pleasing madness charms my sense | C |
| Or I hear songs well tund instruments | C |
| Yes tis a ball where I with airs cloths | C |
| Engage the Ladys outshine the beaus | C |
| I chuse a creature beautious as the light | G |
| Of her I beg she denys a night | G |
| Scorn with the fair does still attendant go | P |
| they're proud because their outward charms they know | P |
| fondly think them reasons to be so | P |
| But passion hearts of any temper moves | C |
| Anon shes complaisant anon she loves | C |
| When sated with the bliss their arms I quitt | G |
| I boast my triumph to each friend I meet | G |
| for men are now so scandalously vain | L |
| They think it less of pleasure to obtain | L |
| their Joys then tell 'em or'e to other men | L |
| more of grief to hide the ripe amour | O |
| then twas to smother infant love before | O |
| I drink I dance I swear I shake ye dice | C |
| try each path of pleasurable vice | C |
| till at ye last my wild unsettled life | Q |
| like Comedys is finishd in a wife | Q |
| - | |
| by Just degrees the breezes louder grow | O |
| the same breast they sooth they roughen too | G |
| Methinks Ime strangely alterd in a trice | C |
| All soft unmanly pleasures I despise | C |
| Warr is my buisness honour is my prize | C |
| I grasp it in my thoughts push along | R |
| Nor mind the toiles by which it must be won | L |
| With such bewitching powr the walking light | G |
| leads men thro' all the dangers of the night | G |
| Ore hills vales they hunt the dazzling game | S |
| Nor feel the trouble while they see the flame | S |
| Strange force of Glory what a world are slain | L |
| to please the pride of two or three great men | L |
| how towns have fed on ratts yt scornd to yield | G |
| how dear ye hardy soldier buys ye field | G |
| Warm without anger to their arms they crowd | G |
| for anothers quarrell wast their blood | G |
| some fight curse while others run pray | O |
| In Camps they rook each other at their play | O |
| then the loosers mutiny for pay | O |
| are my brave followers slain why lett ym dy | G |
| false musterd companys my purse supply | T |
| Thus summers fraud feeds winters luxury | O |
| When in warm quarters nature craves a punk | U |
| for the Queen I loyally get drunk | U |
| - | |
| Give ore my wanton fancy now give ore | O |
| the clouds are gath'ring anon they'le powr | O |
| the pleasures of my groves are fled away | O |
| the sacred silence ye shiny day | O |
| what have you then to lull you in your play | O |
Thomas Parnell
(1)
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About Satyr Vi. The Spleen
Satyr Vi. The Spleen is a poem by Thomas Parnell. This page includes the poem text, poet information, related topics, comments, and similar poems.
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