Analysis of Lines On A Late Hospicious Ewent, By A Gebtleman Of The Footguards (Blue)



I paced upon my beat
With steady step and slow,
All huppandownd of Ranelagh Street:
Ran'lagh St. Pimlico.

While marching huppandownd
Upon that fair May morn,
Beold the booming cannings sound,
A royal child is born!

The Ministers of State
Then presnly I sor,
They gallops to the Pallis gate,
In carridges and for.

With anxious looks intent,
Before the gate they stop,
There comes the good Lord President,
And there the Archbishopp.

Lord John he next elights;
And who comes here in haste?
'Tis the ero of one underd fights,
The caudle for to taste.

Then Mrs. Lily, the nuss,
Towards them steps with joy;
Says the brave old Duke, 'Come tell to us,
Is it a gal or a boy?'

Says Mrs. L. to the Duke,
'Your Grace, it is A PRINCE.'
And at that nuss's bold rebuke,
He did both laugh and wince.

He vews with pleasant look
This pooty flower of May,
Then, says the wenarable Duke,
'Egad, it's my buthday.'

By memory backwards borne,
Peraps his thoughts did stray
To that old place where he was born,
Upon the first of May.

Perhaps he did recal
The ancient towers of Trim;
And County Meath and Dangan Hall
They did rewisit him.

I phansy of him so
His good old thoughts employin';
Fourscore years and one ago
Beside the flowin' Boyne.

His father praps he sees,
Most Musicle of Lords,
A playing maddrigles and glees
Upon the Arpsicords.

Jest phansy this old Ero
Upon his mother's knee!
Did ever lady in this land
Ave greater sons than she?

And I shoudn be surprize
While this was in his mind,
If a drop there twinkled in his eyes
Of unfamiliar brind.

To Hapsly Ouse next day
Drives up a Broosh and for,
A gracious prince sits in that Shay
I mention him with Hor!)

They ring upon the bell,
The Porter shows his Ed,
(He fought at Vaterloo as vell,
And vears a Veskit red).

To see that carriage come,
The people round it press:
'And is the galliant Duke at ome?'
'Your Royal Ighness, yes.'

He stepps from out the Broosh
And in the gate is gone;
And X, although the people push,
Says wary kind, 'Move hon.'

The Royal Prince unto
The galliant Duke did say,
'Dear duke, my little son and you
Was born the self same day.

'The Lady of the land,
My wife and Sovring dear,
It is by her horgust command
I wait upon you here.

'That lady is as well
As can expected be;
And to your Grace she bid me tell
This gracious message free.

'That offspring of our race,
Whom yesterday you see,
To show our honor for your Grace,
Prince Arthur he shall be.

'That name it rhymes to fame;
All Europe knows the sound:
And I couldn't find a better name
If you'd give me twenty pound.

'King Arthur had his knights
That girt his table round,
But you have won a hundred fights,
Will match 'em I'll be bound.

'You fought with Bonypart,
And likewise Tippoo Saib;
I name you then with all my heart
The Godsire of this babe.'

That Prince his leave was took,
His hinterview was done.
So let us give the good old Duke
Good luck of his god-son.

And wish him years of joy
In this our time of Schism,
And hope he'll hear the royal boy
His little catechism.

And my pooty little Prince
That's come our arts to cheer,
Let me my loyal powers ewince
A welcomin of you ere.

And the Poit-Laureat's crownd,
I think, in some respex,
Egstremely shootable might be found
For honest Pleaseman X.


Scheme ABAC ADED FGFG HIHI JKJK JLJL CJCJ CMCA DMDM BNXN BDBX JJJJ BOPO JXJA MGMG QRBR SJMJ TXTX UJUM PVPX QOQO JJJO WEWE JEJE AXXX CYCY LSLS JVJX AJEJ
Poetic Form Quatrain  (83%)
Metre 110111 110101 11111 111 1101 011111 101011 010111 010011 1111 111011 0101 110101 010111 1101110 0101 11111 011101 10101111 010111 1101001 011111 101111111 1101101 1101101 111101 0111101 111101 111101 111011 11011 1111 1100101 11111 11111111 010111 01111 0101011 0101011 1111 11111 11111 110101 01011 110111 1111 010101 0101 111110 011101 11010011 110111 01111 111011 101110011 10101 11111 110101 01011011 110111 110101 010111 111111 01011 111101 010111 0101111 11011 111101 000111 0110101 110111 010110 01111 11110101 110111 010101 11011 1110101 110111 110111 110101 01111111 110101 111101 11011 111010111 110111 111111 110101 011010101 1111101 110111 111101 11110101 111111 1111 0111 11111111 01111 111111 1111 11110111 111111 011111 01101110 01110101 110100 011101 1110111 11110101 01111 00111 11011 11111 11011
Closest metre Iambic trimeter
Characters 3,129
Words 620
Sentences 44
Stanzas 29
Stanza Lengths 4, 4, 4, 4, 4, 4, 4, 4, 4, 4, 4, 4, 4, 4, 4, 4, 4, 4, 4, 4, 4, 4, 4, 4, 4, 4, 4, 4, 4
Lines Amount 116
Letters per line (avg) 21
Words per line (avg) 5
Letters per stanza (avg) 86
Words per stanza (avg) 21
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Submitted on May 13, 2011

Modified on March 05, 2023

3:07 min read
129

William Makepeace Thackeray

William Makepeace Thackeray was an English novelist of the 19th century. more…

All William Makepeace Thackeray poems | William Makepeace Thackeray Books

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    "Lines On A Late Hospicious Ewent, By A Gebtleman Of The Footguards (Blue)" Poetry.com. STANDS4 LLC, 2024. Web. 28 Apr. 2024. <https://www.poetry.com/poem-analysis/41014/lines-on-a-late-hospicious-ewent%2C-by-a-gebtleman-of-the-footguards-%28blue%29>.

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