An Elegy on That Glory of Her Sex, Mrs. Mary Blaize
GOOD people all, with one accord,Lament for Madam BLAIZE,Who never wanted a good word—From those who spoke her praise.
The needy seldom pass’d her door,And always found her kind;She freely lent to all the poor,—Who left a pledge behind.
She strove the neighbourhood to please,With manners wond’rous winning,And never follow’d wicked ways,—Unless when she was sinning.
At church, in silks and satins new,With hoop of monstrous size,She never slumber’d in her pew,—But when she shut her eyes.
Her love was sought, I do aver,By twenty beaux and more;The king himself has follow’d her,—When she has walk’d before.
But now her wealth and finery fled,Her hangers-on cut short all;The doctors found, when she was dead,—Her last disorder mortal.
Let us lament, in sorrow sore,For Kent-street well may say,That had she liv’d a twelve-month more,—She had not died to-day.
Words in this poem
- spoke n.
- The radius or ray of a wheel; one of the small bars which are inserted in the hub, or nave, and which serve to support the rim or felly. [OE. spoke, spake, AS, spaca; akin to D. speek, LG. speke, OHG. speihha, G. speiche. sq. root170. Cf. Spike a nail.]
- aver n.
- A work horse, or working ox. [OF. aver domestic animal, whence LL. averia, pl. cattle. See Habit, and cf. Average.]
- wealth n.
- Weal; welfare; prosperity; good. [OE. welthe, from wele; cf. D. weelde luxury. See Weal prosperity.]
- finery n.
- Fineness; beauty.
Definitions and etymologies from Webster's Unabridged Dictionary, 1913.
About this text
An Elegy on That Glory of Her Sex, Mrs. Mary Blaize is in the public domain. This text is taken from The Complete Poetical Works of Oliver Goldsmith, Project Gutenberg ebook #3545; the transcription's header, footer and licence were removed and nothing else was changed. You may copy, print and reuse it freely.
Cite as: Oliver Goldsmith, An Elegy on That Glory of Her Sex, Mrs. Mary Blaize, in Poems (1764–1774), text of Project Gutenberg ebook #3545, Laurel, https://laurelpoetry.com/poem/goldsmith-poems/an-elegy-on-that-glory-of-her-sex-mrs-mary-blaize.html, id L00427.
Form and metre
An Elegy on That Glory of Her Sex, Mrs. Mary Blaize is 28 lines in 7 stanzas of 4 lines each. The commonest rhyme scheme is ABAB, in 3 of the 7 stanzas; the rest vary or could not be confirmed. The metre is common measure, measured from the stress the words themselves fix (confidence 93%). 98% of its stressed syllables fall where the metre puts the beat. The lines average 7.2 syllables. 4 lines end on an unstressed syllable, a feminine ending.
See other poems in common measure.
Measured by Laurel's pipeline, not copied from a handbook: how stress and metre are counted, how rhyme is lettered, how a drifted rhyme is found. Where the dictionary cannot confirm a rhyme the letter is withheld, not guessed.
Rhyme words, stanza by stanza
The word that ends each line, lettered by the rhyme it makes; a dash is a line whose rhyme the dictionary could not confirm.
- 1 -A-A accord · blaizeA · word · praiseA
- 2 -A-A door · kindA · poor · behindA
- 3 -A-A please · winningA · ways · sinningA
- 4 ABAB newA · sizeB · pewA · eyesB
- 5 -A-A aver · moreA · her · beforeA
- 6 ABAB fledA · allB · deadA · mortalB
- 7 ABAB soreA · sayB · moreA · dayB
Scansion, line by line
Each line with its syllable count and the stresses the words themselves fix: / stressed, ˘ unstressed, · a syllable the word leaves free and the metre decides. Read against common measure. How this is done.
| Line | Syl. | Stress |
|---|---|---|
| GOOD people all, with one accord, | 8 | ·/˘···˘/ |
| Lament for Madam BLAIZE, | 6 | ˘/·/˘· |
| Who never wanted a good word— | 8 | ·/˘/˘··· |
| From those who spoke her praise. | 6 | ······ |
| The needy seldom pass’d her door, | 8 | ·/˘/˘··· |
| And always found her kind; | 6 | ·/···· |
| She freely lent to all the poor,— | 8 | ·/˘····· |
| Who left a pledge behind. | 6 | ······ |
| She strove the neighbourhood to please, | 8 | ········ |
| With manners wond’rous winning, | 7 | ·/˘/˘/˘ |
| And never follow’d wicked ways,— | 9 | ·/˘/˘/˘˘· |
| Unless when she was sinning. | 7 | ·····/˘ |
| At church, in silks and satins new, | 8 | ·····/˘· |
| With hoop of monstrous size, | 6 | ···/˘· |
| She never slumber’d in her pew,— | 8 | ·/˘····· |
| But when she shut her eyes. | 6 | ······ |
| Her love was sought, I do aver, | 8 | ······/˘ |
| By twenty beaux and more; | 6 | ·/˘··· |
| The king himself has follow’d her,— | 8 | ··˘/·/˘· |
| When she has walk’d before. | 6 | ······ |
| But now her wealth and finery fled, | 9 | ·····/˘˘· |
| Her hangers-on cut short all; | 7 | ·/˘···· |
| The doctors found, when she was dead,— | 8 | ·/˘····· |
| Her last disorder mortal. | 7 | ··˘/˘/˘ |
| Let us lament, in sorrow sore, | 8 | ··˘/·/˘· |
| For Kent-street well may say, | 6 | ······ |
| That had she liv’d a twelve-month more,— | 8 | ········ |
| She had not died to-day. | 6 | ······ |
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