Epistle To The Bishop Of Landaff. Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis
Rhyme Scheme: A B CCDDEEFFAAGGHHIIJKLL MMNOHHDDPPMMQQRRSSTT UUVVEEWWAAXX| Christmas Day | A |
| - | |
| Epistle | B |
| - | |
| Thy fav'rite Prelate haste my verse to greet | C |
| Adorning nature in his sylvan seat | C |
| His southern hermit his unchanging friend | D |
| Sends him such tribute as the heart may send | D |
| Love that in honouring a peaceful sage | E |
| Invokes all blessings on his hallowed age | E |
| Though many a mountain rears its head between | F |
| His wood crown'd mansion and my cell marine | F |
| In mental vision I his form survey | A |
| Thro' various periods of our vital day | A |
| Now as his manly figure struck my sight | G |
| When first I heard his voice with new delight | G |
| Imparting science or celestial truth | H |
| With Latin eloquence to English youth | H |
| And now as when o'erpowering sceptic strife | I |
| In his mild vigor of maturer life | I |
| His liberal spirit gain'd the world's applause | J |
| The mitred champion of the Christian cause | K |
| Oh ever friendly to a guileless bard | L |
| Whose pure ambition sought thy kind regard | L |
| How fervently I wish that verse of mine | M |
| Nor vain nor languid tho' in life's decline | M |
| Might thro' thy heart the cheering glow diffuse | N |
| That friendship welcomes from no venal muse | O |
| When worth time honour'd still as frank as youth | H |
| Owns that her words of praise are words of truth | H |
| Benign Landaff to liberal arts a friend | D |
| May all those arts thy well earned fame attend | D |
| Grateful for all thy kindness to his sire | P |
| My filial sculptor with Promethean fire | P |
| While yet a boy confess'd a proud design | M |
| To make thy spirit in his marble shine | M |
| And with expression eloquently just | Q |
| Charm future Christians by thy breathing bust | Q |
| That hope with many a plan devoutly bold | R |
| The great disposer of our days controll'd | R |
| Saw tortured youth angelically calm | S |
| And call'd the martyr to his heav'nly palm | S |
| If love inherent in a parent's heart | T |
| Sighs for that lost Marcellus of his art | T |
| Still can I joy that with rare length of days | U |
| Heaven yet allows my hallow'd friend to raise | U |
| And with his own more energetic hand | V |
| Whose works the ravages of time withstand | V |
| A portrait of himself thou much lov'd sage | E |
| Far yet extend that biographic page | E |
| Where conscious of existence well employ'd | W |
| And mental treasures gratefully enjoy'd | W |
| Thy virtuous age will morally display | A |
| The various labours of thy useful day | A |
| And in thy own rich eloquence enshrin'd | X |
| Leave thy instructive life a lesson for mankind | X |
William Hayley
(1)
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