An Apology To Lady Carteret (verses Written During Lord Carteret's Administration Of Ireland) Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis
Rhyme Scheme: A BBCDEEFFGGHIJJKKLLMN OPQQKKRRFFFFSSFFKKFF FFTTUVWXYYFFFFZZA2B2 KKC2D2FFKKPPE2F2G2G2 H2H2FFFFFFTTGGSSFFI2 I2J2J2FFFFFFKKH2H2FF KKH2H2H2H2FFK2K2FFFF FFKKH2H2H2H2L2L2H2H2 H2H2M2M2FFH2H2H2H2GG KKKKH2H2FFH2H2KKH2H2 O KKFFFFH2H2| As Lord Carteret's residence in Ireland as Viceroy was a series of cabals against the authority of the Prime Minister he failed not as well from his love of literature as from his hatred to Walpole to attach to himself as much as possible the distinguished author of the Drapier Letters By the interest which Swift soon gained with the Lord Lieutenant he was enabled to recommend several friends whose High Church or Tory principles had hitherto obstructed their preferment The task of forwarding the views of Delany in particular led to several of Swift's liveliest poetical effusions while on the other hand he was equally active in galling by his satire Smedley and other Whig beaux esprits who during this amphibious administration sought the favour of a literary Lord Lieutenant by literary offerings and poetical adulation These pieces with one or two connected with the same subject are here thrown together as they seem to reflect light upon each other Scott | A |
| - | |
| - | |
| - | |
| - | |
| - | |
| - | |
| A lady wise as well as fair | B |
| Whose conscience always was her care | B |
| Thoughtful upon a point of moment | C |
| Would have the text as well as comment | D |
| So hearing of a grave divine | E |
| She sent to bid him come to dine | E |
| But you must know he was not quite | F |
| So grave as to be unpolite | F |
| Thought human learning would not lessen | G |
| The dignity of his profession | G |
| And if you'd heard the man discourse | H |
| Or preach you'd like him scarce the worse | I |
| He long had bid the court farewell | J |
| Retreating silent to his cell | J |
| Suspected for the love he bore | K |
| To one who sway'd some time before | K |
| Which made it more surprising how | L |
| He should be sent for thither now | L |
| The message told he gapes and stares | M |
| And scarce believes his eyes or ears | N |
| Could not conceive what it should mean | O |
| And fain would hear it told again | P |
| But then the squire so trim and nice | Q |
| 'Twere rude to make him tell it twice | Q |
| So bow'd was thankful for the honour | K |
| And would not fail to wait upon her | K |
| His beaver brush'd his shoes and gown | R |
| Away he trudges into town | R |
| Passes the lower castle yard | F |
| And now advancing to the guard | F |
| He trembles at the thoughts of state | F |
| For conscious of his sheepish gait | F |
| His spirits of a sudden fail'd him | S |
| He stopp'd and could not tell what ail'd him | S |
| What was the message I received | F |
| Why certainly the captain raved | F |
| To dine with her and come at three | K |
| Impossible it can't be me | K |
| Or maybe I mistook the word | F |
| My lady it must be my lord | F |
| My lord 's abroad my lady too | F |
| What must the unhappy doctor do | F |
| Is Captain Cracherode here pray No | T |
| Nay then 'tis time for me to go | T |
| Am I awake or do I dream | U |
| I'm sure he call'd me by my name | V |
| Named me as plain as he could speak | W |
| And yet there must be some mistake | X |
| Why what a jest should I have been | Y |
| Had now my lady been within | Y |
| What could I've said I'm mighty glad | F |
| She went abroad she'd thought me mad | F |
| The hour of dining now is past | F |
| Well then I'll e'en go home and fast | F |
| And since I 'scaped being made a scoff | Z |
| I think I'm very fairly off | Z |
| My lady now returning home | A2 |
| Calls Cracherode is the Doctor come | B2 |
| He had not heard of him Pray see | K |
| 'Tis now a quarter after three | K |
| The captain walks about and searches | C2 |
| Through all the rooms and courts and arches | D2 |
| Examines all the servants round | F |
| In vain no doctor's to be found | F |
| My lady could not choose but wonder | K |
| Captain I fear you've made some blunder | K |
| But pray to morrow go at ten | P |
| I'll try his manners once again | P |
| If rudeness be th' effect of knowledge | E2 |
| My son shall never see a college | F2 |
| The captain was a man of reading | G2 |
| And much good sense as well as breeding | G2 |
| Who loath to blame or to incense | H2 |
| Said little in his own defence | H2 |
| Next day another message brought | F |
| The Doctor frighten'd at his fault | F |
| Is dress'd and stealing through the crowd | F |
| Now pale as death then blush'd and bow'd | F |
| Panting and faltering humm'd and ha'd | F |
| Her ladyship was gone abroad | F |
| The captain too he did not know | T |
| Whether he ought to stay or go | T |
| Begg'd she'd forgive him In conclusion | G |
| My lady pitying his confusion | G |
| Call'd her good nature to relieve him | S |
| Told him she thought she might believe him | S |
| And would not only grant his suit | F |
| But visit him and eat some fruit | F |
| Provided at a proper time | I2 |
| He told the real truth in rhyme | I2 |
| 'Twas to no purpose to oppose | J2 |
| She'd hear of no excuse in prose | J2 |
| The Doctor stood not to debate | F |
| Glad to compound at any rate | F |
| So bowing seemingly complied | F |
| Though if he durst he had denied | F |
| But first resolved to show his taste | F |
| Was too refined to give a feast | F |
| He'd treat with nothing that was rare | K |
| But winding walks and purer air | K |
| Would entertain without expense | H2 |
| Or pride or vain magnificence | H2 |
| For well he knew to such a guest | F |
| The plainest meals must be the best | F |
| To stomachs clogg'd with costly fare | K |
| Simplicity alone is rare | K |
| While high and nice and curious meats | H2 |
| Are really but vulgar treats | H2 |
| Instead of spoils of Persian looms | H2 |
| The costly boast of regal rooms | H2 |
| Thought it more courtly and discreet | F |
| To scatter roses at her feet | F |
| Roses of richest dye that shone | K2 |
| With native lustre like her own | K2 |
| Beauty that needs no aid of art | F |
| Through every sense to reach the heart | F |
| The gracious dame though well she knew | F |
| All this was much beneath her due | F |
| Liked everything at least thought fit | F |
| To praise it par mani re d'acquit | F |
| Yet she though seeming pleased can't bear | K |
| The scorching sun or chilling air | K |
| Disturb'd alike at both extremes | H2 |
| Whether he shows or hides his beams | H2 |
| Though seeming pleased at all she sees | H2 |
| Starts at the ruffling of the trees | H2 |
| And scarce can speak for want of breath | L2 |
| In half a walk fatigued to death | L2 |
| The Doctor takes his hint from hence | H2 |
| T' apologize his late offence | H2 |
| Madam the mighty power of use | H2 |
| Now strangely pleads in my excuse | H2 |
| If you unused have scarcely strength | M2 |
| To gain this walk's untoward length | M2 |
| If frighten'd at a scene so rude | F |
| Through long disuse of solitude | F |
| If long confined to fires and screens | H2 |
| You dread the waving of these greens | H2 |
| If you who long have breathed the fumes | H2 |
| Of city fogs and crowded rooms | H2 |
| Do now solicitously shun | G |
| The cooler air and dazzling sun | G |
| If his majestic eye you flee | K |
| Learn hence t' excuse and pity me | K |
| Consider what it is to bear | K |
| The powder'd courtier's witty sneer | K |
| To see th' important man of dress | H2 |
| Scoffing my college awkwardness | H2 |
| To be the strutting cornet's sport | F |
| To run the gauntlet of the court | F |
| Winning my way by slow approaches | H2 |
| Through crowds of coxcombs and of coaches | H2 |
| From the first fierce cockaded sentry | K |
| Quite through the tribe of waiting gentry | K |
| To pass so many crowded stages | H2 |
| And stand the staring of your pages | H2 |
| And after all to crown my spleen | O |
| Be told 'You are not to be seen ' | - |
| Or if you are be forced to bear | K |
| The awe of your majestic air | K |
| And can I then be faulty found | F |
| In dreading this vexatious round | F |
| Can it be strange if I eschew | F |
| A scene so glorious and so new | F |
| Or is he criminal that flies | H2 |
| The living lustre of your eyes | H2 |
Jonathan Swift
(1)
Poem topics: , Print This Poem , Rhyme Scheme
Submit Spanish Translation
Submit German Translation
Submit French Translation
Write your comment about An Apology To Lady Carteret (verses Written During Lord Carteret's Administration Of Ireland) poem by Jonathan Swift
Best Poems of Jonathan Swift