The Book-worm Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis
Rhyme Scheme: AABBCDEEFFGGHHII JJKLMMNOPP QRIISSEETTAAUUVV WXYYZA2 EEAA B2B2C2C2SSZA2 D2D2E2E2F2F2 G2G2XWH2H2E2E2 I2I2C2C2J2J2VVK2K2 FFL2L2 M2M2JJE2E2N2N2O2O2RRCome hither Boy we'll hunt to Day | A |
The Book Worm ravening Beast of Prey | A |
Produc'd by Parent Earth at odds | B |
As Fame reports it with the Gods | B |
Him frantick Hunger wildly drives | C |
Against a thousand Authors Lives | D |
Thro' all the Fields of Wit he flies | E |
Dreadful his Head with clust'ring Eyes | E |
With Horns without and Tusks within | F |
And Scales to serve him for a Skin | F |
Observe him nearly lest he climb | G |
To wound the Bards of antient Time | G |
Or down the Vale of Fancy go | H |
To tear some modern Wretch below | H |
On ev'ry Corner fix thine Eye | I |
Or ten to one he slips thee by | I |
- | |
See where his Teeth a Passage eat | J |
We'll rouse him from the deep Retreat | J |
But who the Shelter's forc'd to give | K |
'Tis Sacred Virgil as I live | L |
From Leaf to Leaf from Song to Song | M |
He draws the tadpole Form along | M |
He mounts the gilded Edge before | N |
He's up he scuds the Cover o'er | O |
He turns he doubles there he past | P |
And here we have him caught at last | P |
- | |
Insatiate Brute whose Teeth abuse | Q |
The sweetest Servants of the Muse | R |
Nay never offer to deny | I |
I took thee in the Fact to fly | I |
His Roses nipt in ev'ry Page | S |
My poor Anacreon mourns thy Rage | S |
By thee my Ovid wounded lies | E |
By thee my Lesbia's Sparrow dies | E |
Thy rabid Teeth have half destroy'd | T |
The Work of Love in Biddy Floyd | T |
They rent Belinda's Locks away | A |
And spoil'd the Blouzelind of Gay | A |
For all for ev'ry single Deed | U |
Relentless Justice bids thee bleed | U |
Then fall a Victim to the Nine | V |
My self the Priest my Desk the Shrine | V |
- | |
Bring Homer Virgil Tasso near | W |
To pile a sacred Altar here | X |
Hold Boy thy Hand out run thy Wit | Y |
You reach'd the Plays that D s writ | Y |
You reach'd me Ph s rustick Strain | Z |
Pray take your mortal Bards again | A2 |
- | |
Come bind the Victim there he lies | E |
And here between his num'rous Eyes | E |
This venerable Dust I lay | A |
From Manuscripts just swept away | A |
- | |
The Goblet in my Hand I take | B2 |
For the Libation's yet to make | B2 |
A Health to Poets all their Days | C2 |
May they have Bread as well as Praise | C2 |
Sense may they seek and less engage | S |
In Papers fill'd with Party Rage | S |
But if their Riches spoil their Vein | Z |
Ye Muses make them poor again | A2 |
- | |
Now bring the Weapon yonder Blade | D2 |
With which my tuneful Pens are made | D2 |
I strike the Scales that arm thee round | E2 |
And twice and thrice I print the Wound | E2 |
The sacred Altar floats with red | F2 |
And now he dies and now he's dead | F2 |
- | |
How like the Son of Jove I stand | G2 |
This Hydra stretch'd beneath my Hand | G2 |
Lay bare the Monster's Entrails here | X |
To see what Dangers threat the Year | W |
Ye Gods what Sonnets on a Wench | H2 |
What lean Translations out of French | H2 |
'Tis plain this Lobe is so unsound | E2 |
S prints before the Months go round | E2 |
- | |
But hold before I close the Scene | I2 |
The sacred Altar shou'd be clean | I2 |
Oh had I Sh ll's Second Bays | C2 |
Or T thy pert and humble Lays | C2 |
Ye Pair forgive me when I vow | J2 |
I never miss'd your Works till now | J2 |
I'd tear the Leaves to wipe the Shrine | V |
That only way you please the Nine | V |
But since I chance to want these two | K2 |
I'll make the Songs of D y do | K2 |
- | |
Rent from the Corps on yonder Pin | F |
I hang the Scales that brac't it in | F |
I hang my studious Morning Gown | L2 |
And write my own Inscription down | L2 |
- | |
This Trophy from the Python won | M2 |
This Robe in which the Deed was done | M2 |
These Parnell glorying in the Feat | J |
Hung on these Shelves the Muses Seat | J |
Here Ignorance and Hunger found | E2 |
Large Realms of Wit to ravage round | E2 |
Here Ignorance and Hunger fell | N2 |
Two Foes in one I sent to Hell | N2 |
Ye Poets who my Labours see | O2 |
Come share the Triumph all with me | O2 |
Ye Criticks born to vex the Muse | R |
Go mourn the grand Ally you lose | R |
Thomas Parnell
(1)
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