The Flies. An Eclogue. Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis

Rhyme Scheme: AABBCCDD EECCFFGG FFHHIJKKFFLL KK FFMMNNOO PP FFDDQQDD KKRSFFKKTTDDKKKK DDOOUUVVFF JI

When in the River Cows for Coolness standA
And Sheep for Breezes seek the lofty LandA
A Youth whom sop taught that ev'ry TreeB
Each Bird and Insect spoke as well as heB
Walk'd calmly musing in a shaded WayC
Where flow'ring Hawthorn broke the sunny RayC
And thus instructs his Moral Pen to drawD
A Scene that obvious in the Field he sawD
-
Near a low Ditch where shallow Waters meetE
Which never learnt to glide with liquid FeetE
Whose Naiads never prattle as they playC
But screen'd with Hedges slumber out the DayC
There stands a slender Fern's aspiring ShadeF
Whose answ'ring Branches regularly laydF
Put forth their answ'ring Boughs and proudly riseG
Three Stories upward in the nether SkiesG
-
For Shelter here to shun the Noon day HeatF
An airy Nation of the Flies retreatF
Some in soft Air their silken Pinions plyH
And some from Bough to Bough delighted flyH
Some rise and circling light to perch againI
A pleasing Murmur hums along the PlainJ
So when a Stage invites to pageant ShowsK
If great and small are like appear the BeausK
In Boxes some with spruce Pretension sitF
Some change from Seat to Seat within the PitF
Some roam the Scenes or turning cease to roamL
Preluding Musick fills the lofty DomeL
-
When thus a Fly if what a Fly can sayK
Deserves attention rais'd the rural LayK
-
Where late Amintor made a Nymph a BrideF
Joyful I flew by young Favonia's sideF
Who mindless of the Feasting went to sipM
The balmy Pleasure of the Shepherd's LipM
I saw the Wanton where I stoop'd to supN
And half resolv'd to drown me in the CupN
'Till brush'd by careless Hands she soar'd aboveO
Cease Beauty cease to vex a tender LoveO
-
Thus ends the Youth the buzzing Meadow rungP
And thus the Rival of his Musick sungP
-
When Suns by thousands shone in Orbs of DewF
I wafted soft with Zephyretta flewF
Saw the clean Pail and sought the milky ChearD
While little Daphne seiz'd my roving DearD
Wretch that I was I might have warn'd the DameQ
Yet sat indulging as the Danger cameQ
But the kind Huntress left her free to soarD
Ah guard ye Lovers guard a Mistress moreD
-
Thus from the Fern whose high projecting ArmsK
The fleeting Nation bent with dusky SwarmsK
The Swains their Love in easy Musick breatheR
When Tongues and Tumult stun the Field beneathS
Black Ants in Teams come darkning all the RoadF
Some call to march and some to lift the LoadF
They strain they labour with incessant PainsK
Press'd by the cumbrous weight of single GrainsK
The Flies struck silent gaze with Wonder downT
The busy Burghers reach their earthy TownT
Where lay the Burthens of a wint'ry StoreD
And thence unwearied part in search of moreD
Yet one grave Sage a Moment's space attendsK
And the small City's loftiest Point ascendsK
Wipes the salt Dew that trickles down his FaceK
And thus harangues them with the gravest GraceK
-
Ye foolish Nurslings of the Summer AirD
These gentle Tunes and whining Songs forbearD
Your Trees and whisp'ring Breeze your Grove and LoveO
Your Cupids Quiver and his Mother's DoveO
Let Bards to Business bend their vig'rous WingU
And sing but seldom if they love to singU
Else when the Flourets of the Season failV
And this your Ferny Shade forsakes the ValeV
Tho' one would save ye not one Grain of WheatF
Shou'd pay such Songsters idling at my GateF
-
He ceas'd The Flies incorrigibly vainJ
Heard the May'r's Speech and fell to sing againI

Thomas Parnell



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