An Epistle Upon An Epistle Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis
Rhyme Scheme: A BBCCDDEFAAGAHHIIJJKK LLMHNNOOOOHHOOPPQRSK TTHHOOOUHHVVWWXXHHHH YYZZA2A2OOHHPPHHB2B2 OOC2C2B2B2OOB2B2B2B2 B2B2NND2E2PPOOKKF2F2 OOTTB2B2OOG2G2OOC2C2 B2B2OOOOZZB2B2| FROM A CERTAIN DOCTOR TO A CERTAIN GREAT LORD BEING A CHRISTMAS BOX FOR DR DELANY | A |
| - | |
| - | |
| As Jove will not attend on less | B |
| When things of more importance press | B |
| You can't grave sir believe it hard | C |
| That you a low Hibernian bard | C |
| Should cool your heels a while and wait | D |
| Unanswer'd at your patron's gate | D |
| And would my lord vouchsafe to grant | E |
| This one poor humble boon I want | F |
| Free leave to play his secretary | A |
| As Falstaff acted old king Harry | A |
| I'd tell of yours in rhyme and print | G |
| Folks shrug and cry There's nothing in't | A |
| And after several readings over | H |
| It shines most in the marble cover | H |
| How could so fine a taste dispense | I |
| With mean degrees of wit and sense | I |
| Nor will my lord so far beguile | J |
| The wise and learned of our isle | J |
| To make it pass upon the nation | K |
| By dint of his sole approbation | K |
| The task is arduous patrons find | L |
| To warp the sense of all mankind | L |
| Who think your Muse must first aspire | M |
| Ere he advance the doctor higher | H |
| You've cause to say he meant you well | N |
| That you are thankful who can tell | N |
| For still you're short which grieves your spirit | O |
| Of his intent you mean your merit | O |
| Ah quanto rectius tu adepte | O |
| Qui nil moliris tarn inepte | O |
| Smedley thou Jonathan of Clogher | H |
| When thou thy humble lay dost offer | H |
| To Grafton's grace with grateful heart | O |
| Thy thanks and verse devoid of art | O |
| Content with what his bounty gave | P |
| No larger income dost thou crave | P |
| But you must have cascades and all | Q |
| I rne's lake for your canal | R |
| Your vistoes barges and a pox on | S |
| All pride our speaker for your coxon | K |
| It's pity that he can't bestow you | T |
| Twelve commoners in caps to row you | T |
| Thus Edgar proud in days of yore | H |
| Held monarchs labouring at the oar | H |
| And as he pass'd so swell'd the Dee | O |
| Enraged as Ern would do at thee | O |
| How different is this from Smedley | O |
| His name is up he may in bed lie | U |
| Who only asks some pretty cure | H |
| In wholesome soil and ether pure | H |
| The garden stored with artless flowers | V |
| In either angle shady bowers | V |
| No gay parterre with costly green | W |
| Must in the ambient hedge be seen | W |
| But Nature freely takes her course | X |
| Nor fears from him ungrateful force | X |
| No shears to check her sprouting vigour | H |
| Or shape the yews to antic figure | H |
| But you forsooth your all must squander | H |
| On that poor spot call'd Dell ville yonder | H |
| And when you've been at vast expenses | Y |
| In whims parterres canals and fences | Y |
| Your assets fail and cash is wanting | Z |
| Nor farther buildings farther planting | Z |
| No wonder when you raise and level | A2 |
| Think this wall low and that wall bevel | A2 |
| Here a convenient box you found | O |
| Which you demolish'd to the ground | O |
| Then built then took up with your arbour | H |
| And set the house to Rupert Barber | H |
| You sprang an arch which in a scurvy | P |
| Humour you tumbled topsy turvy | P |
| You change a circle to a square | H |
| Then to a circle as you were | H |
| Who can imagine whence the fund is | B2 |
| That you quadrata change rotundis | B2 |
| To Fame a temple you erect | O |
| A Flora does the dome protect | O |
| Mounts walks on high and in a hollow | C2 |
| You place the Muses and Apollo | C2 |
| There shining 'midst his train to grace | B2 |
| Your whimsical poetic place | B2 |
| These stories were of old design'd | O |
| As fables but you have refined | O |
| The poets mythologic dreams | B2 |
| To real Muses gods and streams | B2 |
| Who would not swear when you contrive thus | B2 |
| That you're Don Quixote redivivus | B2 |
| Beneath a dry canal there lies | B2 |
| Which only Winter's rain supplies | B2 |
| O couldst thou by some magic spell | N |
| Hither convey St Patrick's well | N |
| Here may it reassume its stream | D2 |
| And take a greater Patrick's name | E2 |
| If your expenses rise so high | P |
| What income can your wants supply | P |
| Yet still you fancy you inherit | O |
| A fund of such superior merit | O |
| That you can't fail of more provision | K |
| All by my lady's kind decision | K |
| For the more livings you can fish up | F2 |
| You think you'll sooner be a bishop | F2 |
| That could not be my lord's intent | O |
| Nor can it answer the event | O |
| Most think what has been heap'd on you | T |
| To other sort of folk was due | T |
| Rewards too great for your flim flams | B2 |
| Epistles riddles epigrams | B2 |
| Though now your depth must not be sounded | O |
| The time was when you'd have compounded | O |
| For less than Charley Grattan's school | G2 |
| Five hundred pound a year's no fool | G2 |
| Take this advice then from your friend | O |
| To your ambition put an end | O |
| Be frugal Pat pay what you owe | C2 |
| Before you build and you bestow | C2 |
| Be modest nor address your betters | B2 |
| With begging vain familiar letters | B2 |
| A passage may be found I've heard | O |
| In some old Greek or Latian bard | O |
| Which says Would crows in silence eat | O |
| Their offals or their better meat | O |
| Their generous feeders not provoking | Z |
| By loud and inharmonious croaking | Z |
| They might unhurt by Envy's claws | B2 |
| Live on and stuff to boot their maws | B2 |
Jonathan Swift
(1)
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About An Epistle Upon An Epistle
An Epistle Upon An Epistle is a poem by Jonathan Swift. This page includes the poem text, poet information, related topics, comments, and similar poems.
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