A Letter To Sir George Etherege.[1] Poem Rhyme Scheme

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To you who live in chill degree	A
As map informs of fifty three	A
And do not much for cold atone	B
By bringing thither fifty one	C
Methinks all climes should be alike	D
From tropic e'en to pole arctique	D
Since you have such a constitution	C
As nowhere suffers diminution	C
You can be old in grave debate	E
And young in love affairs of state	E
And both to wives and husbands show	F
The vigour of a plenipo	G
Like mighty missioner you come	H
	-
Ad Partes Infidelium	H
A work of wondrous merit sure	I
So far to go so much t' endure	I
And all to preach to German dame	H
Where sound of Cupid never came	H
Less had you done had you been sent	J
As far as Drake or Pinto went	J
For cloves or nutmegs to the line a	K
Or even for oranges to China	K
That had indeed been charity	A
Where love sick ladies helpless lie	L
Chapt and for want of liquor dry	L
But you have made your zeal appear	M
Within the circle of the Bear	N
What region of the earth's so dull	O
That is not of your labours full	P
Triptolemus so sung the Nine	Q
Strew'd plenty from his cart divine	Q
But spite of all these fable makers	R
He never sow'd on Almain acres	R
No that was left by Fate's decree	A
To be perform'd and sung by thee	A
Thou break'st through forms with as much ease	S
As the French king through articles	T
In grand affairs thy days are spent	J
In waging weighty compliment	J
With such as monarchs represent	J
They whom such vast fatigues attend	U
Want some soft minutes to unbend	U
To show the world that now and then	V
Great ministers are mortal men	V
Then Rhenish rammers walk the round	W
In bumpers every king is crown'd	W
Besides three holy mitred Hectors	T
And the whole college of Electors	T
No health of potentate is sunk	D
That pays to make his envoy drunk	D
These Dutch delights I mention'd last	X
Suit not I know your English taste	Y
For wine to leave a whore or play	Z
Was ne'er your Excellency's way	Z
Nor need this title give offence	T
For here you were your Excellence	T
For gaming writing speaking keeping	D
His Excellence for all but sleeping	D
Now if you tope in form and treat	A2
'Tis the sour sauce to the sweet meat	A2
The fine you pay for being great	E
Nay here's a harder imposition	C
Which is indeed the court's petition	C
That setting worldly pomp aside	B2
Which poet has at font denied	B2
You would be pleased in humble way	Z
To write a trifle call'd a play	Z
This truly is a degradation	C
But would oblige the crown and nation	C
Next to your wise negotiation	C
If you pretend as well you may	Z
Your high degree your friends will say	Z
The Duke St Aignon made a play	Z
If Gallic wit convince you scarce	T
His Grace of Bucks has made a farce	T
And you whose comic wit is terse all	C2
Can hardly fall below rehearsal	O
Then finish what you have began	D2
But scribble faster if you can	D2
For yet no George to our discerning	D
Has writ without a ten years' warning	D

John Dryden

A Letter To Sir George Etherege.[1] Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis

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