Satire On The Dutch Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis
Rhyme Scheme: AABBCCDEFFGGHHDIFFJK LLHHMMDNFFOOMMPPQRMM SSPP| As needy gallants in the scrivener's hands | A |
| Court the rich knaves that gripe their mortgaged lands | A |
| The first fat buck of all the season's sent | B |
| And keeper takes no fee in compliment | B |
| The dotage of some Englishmen is such | C |
| To fawn on those who ruin them the Dutch | C |
| They shall have all rather than make a war | D |
| With those who of the same religion are | E |
| The Straits the Guinea trade the herrings too | F |
| Nay to keep friendship they shall pickle you | F |
| Some are resolved not to find out the cheat | G |
| But cuckold like love them that do the feat | G |
| What injuries soe'er upon us fall | H |
| Yet still the same religion answers all | H |
| Religion wheedled us to civil war | D |
| Drew English blood and Dutchmen's now would spare | I |
| Be gulled no longer for you'll find it true | F |
| They have no more religion faith than you | F |
| Interest's the god they worship in their state | J |
| And we I take it have not much of that | K |
| Well monarchies may own religion's name | L |
| But states are atheists in their very frame | L |
| They share a sin and such proportions fall | H |
| That like a stink 'tis nothing to them all | H |
| Think on their rapine falsehood cruelty | M |
| And that what once they were they still would be | M |
| To one well born the affront is worse and more | D |
| When he's abused and baffled by a boor | N |
| With an ill grace the Dutch their mischiefs do | F |
| They've both ill nature and ill manners too | F |
| Well may they boast themselves an ancient nation | O |
| For they were bred ere manners were in fashion | O |
| And their new commonwealth hath set them free | M |
| Only from honour and civility | M |
| Venetians do not more uncouthly ride | P |
| Than did their lubber state mankind bestride | P |
| Their sway became them with as ill a mein | Q |
| As their own paunches swell above their chin | R |
| Yet is their empire no true growth but humour | M |
| And only two kings' touch can cure the tumour | M |
| As Cato fruits of Afric did display | S |
| Let us before our eyes their Indies lay | S |
| All loyal English will like him conclude | P |
| Let C sar live and Carthage be subdued | P |
John Dryden
(1)
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