When want of will and dearth of cause constrain to keep ideas and words outside the brain, you're in danger of writing the garbled metaphors of the next two lines, and of ending up with what Nemo rightly calls this whole train-wreck of a poem. The poem tells that rhyme is good, but fails to show it being used skillfully.
"soon must choose to burn or rot in grave" may be the most egregious example of awkward diction in the poem, although "frame your formless thoughts in squares of mind" is exquisitely meaningless, and the traipse/faith rhyme calls attention to its own awfulness when it's offered as an example of truly lit poetic wit.
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