An Epistle To His Excellency John, Lord Carteret By Dr. Delany Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis
Rhyme Scheme: A BAC DDAAEEFFCCGGAAHIAAAA JJBBKKAAFFAABBBBAAAA LLMMCCNNBBOJPPQQRSTT UUBBCCAALLBBCCAAVVWX YYBBAAAABBYYZZ| Verses Written During Lord Carteret's Administration Of Ireland | A |
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| Credis ob haec me Pastor opes fortasse rogare | B |
| Propter quae vulgus crassaque turba rogat | A |
| MART Epig lib ix | C |
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| Thou wise and learned ruler of our isle | D |
| Whose guardian care can all her griefs beguile | D |
| When next your generous soul shall condescend | A |
| T' instruct or entertain your humble friend | A |
| Whether retiring from your weighty charge | E |
| On some high theme you learnedly enlarge | E |
| Of all the ways of wisdom reason well | F |
| How Richelieu rose and how Sejanus fell | F |
| Or when your brow less thoughtfully unbends | C |
| Circled with Swift and some delighted friends | C |
| When mixing mirth and wisdom with your wine | G |
| Like that your wit shall flow your genius shine | G |
| Nor with less praise the conversation guide | A |
| Than in the public councils you decide | A |
| Or when the Dean long privileged to rail | H |
| Asserts his friend with more impetuous zeal | I |
| You hear whilst I sit by abash'd and mute | A |
| With soft concessions shortening the dispute | A |
| Then close with kind inquiries of my state | A |
| How are your tithes and have they rose of late | A |
| Why Christ Church is a pretty situation | J |
| There are not many better in the nation | J |
| This with your other things must yield you clear | B |
| Some six at least five hundred pounds a year | B |
| Suppose at such a time I took the freedom | K |
| To speak these truths as plainly as you read 'em | K |
| You shall rejoin my lord when I've replied | A |
| And if you please my lady shall decide | A |
| My lord I'm satisfied you meant me well | F |
| And that I'm thankful all the world can tell | F |
| But you'll forgive me if I own the event | A |
| Is short is very short of your intent | A |
| At least I feel some ills unfelt before | B |
| My income less and my expenses more | B |
| How doctor double vicar double rector | B |
| A dignitary with a city lecture | B |
| What glebes what dues what tithes what fines what rent | A |
| Why doctor will you never be content | A |
| Would my good Lord but cast up the account | A |
| And see to what my revenues amount | A |
| My titles ample but my gain so small | L |
| That one good vicarage is worth them all | L |
| And very wretched sure is he that's double | M |
| In nothing but his titles and his trouble | M |
| And to this crying grievance if you please | C |
| My horses founder'd on Fermanagh ways | C |
| Ways of well polish'd and well pointed stone | N |
| Where every step endangers every bone | N |
| And more to raise your pity and your wonder | B |
| Two churches twelve Hibernian miles asunder | B |
| With complicated cures I labour hard in | O |
| Beside whole summers absent from my garden | J |
| But that the world would think I play'd the fool | P |
| I'd change with Charley Grattan for his school | P |
| What fine cascades what vistoes might I make | Q |
| Fixt in the centre of th' I rnian lake | Q |
| There might I sail delighted smooth and safe | R |
| Beneath the conduct of my good Sir Ralph | S |
| There's not a better steerer in the realm | T |
| I hope my lord you'll call him to the helm | T |
| Doctor a glorious scheme to ease your grief | U |
| When cures are cross a school's a sure relief | U |
| You cannot fail of being happy there | B |
| The lake will be the Lethe of your care | B |
| The scheme is for your honour and your ease | C |
| And doctor I'll promote it when you please | C |
| Meanwhile allowing things below your merit | A |
| Yet doctor you've a philosophic spirit | A |
| Your wants are few and like your income small | L |
| And you've enough to gratify them all | L |
| You've trees and fruits and roots enough in store | B |
| And what would a philosopher have more | B |
| You cannot wish for coaches kitchens cooks | C |
| My lord I've not enough to buy me books | C |
| Or pray suppose my wants were all supplied | A |
| Are there no wants I should regard beside | A |
| Whose breast is so unmann'd as not to grieve | V |
| Compass'd with miseries he can't relieve | V |
| Who can be happy who should wish to live | W |
| And want the godlike happiness to give | X |
| That I'm a judge of this you must allow | Y |
| I had it once and I'm debarr'd it now | Y |
| Ask your own heart my lord if this be true | B |
| Then how unblest am I how blest are you | B |
| 'Tis true but doctor let us wave all that | A |
| Say if you had your wish what you'd be at | A |
| Excuse me good my lord I won't be sounded | A |
| Nor shall your favour by my wants be bounded | A |
| My lord I challenge nothing as my due | B |
| Nor is it fit I should prescribe to you | B |
| Yet this might Symmachus himself avow | Y |
| Whose rigid rules are antiquated now | Y |
| My lord I'd wish to pay the debts I owe | Z |
| I'd wish besides to build and to bestow | Z |
Jonathan Swift
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