To Henry Higden,[1] Esq., On His Translation Of The Tenth Satire Of Juvenal. Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis
Rhyme Scheme: AABCBDDEEFFGHIIJJKLM F NNNOOOOPPOOQQRR OOOOOFF| The Grecian wits who Satire first began | A |
| Were pleasant Pasquins on the life of man | A |
| At mighty villains who the state oppress'd | B |
| They durst not rail perhaps they lash'd at least | C |
| And turn'd them out of office with a jest | B |
| No fool could peep abroad but ready stand | D |
| The drolls to clap a bauble in his hand | D |
| Wise legislators never yet could draw | E |
| A fop within the reach of common law | E |
| For posture dress grimace and affectation | F |
| Though foes to sense are harmless to the nation | F |
| Our last redress is dint of verse to try | G |
| And Satire is our Court of Chancery | H |
| This way took Horace to reform an age | I |
| Not bad enough to need an author's rage | I |
| But yours who lived in more degenerate times | J |
| Was forced to fasten deep and worry crimes | J |
| Yet you my friend have temper'd him so well | K |
| You make him smile in spite of all his zeal | L |
| An art peculiar to yourself alone | M |
| To join the virtues of two styles in one | F |
| - | |
| Oh were your author's principle received | N |
| Half of the labouring world would be relieved | N |
| For not to wish is not to be deceived | N |
| Revenge would into charity be changed | O |
| Because it costs too dear to be revenged | O |
| It costs our quiet and content of mind | O |
| And when 'tis compass'd leaves a sting behind | O |
| Suppose I had the better end o' the staff | P |
| Why should I help the ill natured world to laugh | P |
| 'Tis all alike to them who get the day | O |
| They love the spite and mischief of the fray | O |
| No I have cured myself of that disease | Q |
| Nor will I be provoked but when I please | Q |
| But let me half that cure to you restore | R |
| You gave the salve I laid it to the sore | R |
| - | |
| Our kind relief against a rainy day | O |
| Beyond a tavern or a tedious play | O |
| We take your book and laugh our spleen away | O |
| If all your tribe too studious of debate | O |
| Would cease false hopes and titles to create | O |
| Led by the rare example you begun | F |
| Clients would fail and lawyers be undone | F |
John Dryden
(1)
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About To Henry Higden,[1] Esq., On His Translation Of The Tenth Satire Of Juvenal.
To Henry Higden,[1] Esq., On His Translation Of The Tenth Satire Of Juvenal. is a poem by John Dryden. This page includes the poem text, poet information, related topics, comments, and similar poems.
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