Poet Jonathan Swift

Jonathan Swift

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Apollo Outwitted Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis

Rhyme Scheme: A BCBC DEDE FGFG HIHI JKJK LMLN OPOP QRBR QLQL SSSS SSSS TSTS ISIS UCUC SVSV SWSW

To The Honourable Mrs Finch Under Her Name Of ArdeliaA
-
-
Phoebus now short'ning every shadeB
Up to the northern tropic cameC
And thence beheld a lovely maidB
Attending on a royal dameC
-
The god laid down his feeble raysD
Then lighted from his glitt'ring coachE
But fenc'd his head with his own baysD
Before he durst the nymph approachE
-
Under those sacred leaves secureF
From common lightning of the skiesG
He fondly thought he might endureF
The flashes of Ardelia's eyesG
-
The nymph who oft had read in booksH
Of that bright god whom bards invokeI
Soon knew Apollo by his looksH
And guess'd his business ere he spokeI
-
He in the old celestial cantJ
Confess'd his flame and swore by StyxK
Whate'er she would desire to grantJ
But wise Ardelia knew his tricksK
-
Ovid had warn'd her to bewareL
Of strolling gods whose usual trade isM
Under pretence of taking airL
To pick up sublunary ladiesN
-
Howe'er she gave no flat denialO
As having malice in her heartP
And was resolv'd upon a trialO
To cheat the god in his own artP
-
Hear my request the virgin saidQ
Let which I please of all the NineR
Attend whene'er I want their aidB
Obey my call and only mineR
-
By vow oblig'd by passion ledQ
The god could not refuse her prayerL
He way'd his wreath thrice o'er her headQ
Thrice mutter'd something to the airL
-
And now he thought to seize his dueS
But she the charm already try'dS
Thalia heard the call and flewS
To wait at bright Ardelia's sideS
-
On sight of this celestial prudeS
Apollo thought it vain to stayS
Nor in her presence durst be rudeS
But made his leg and went awayS
-
He hop'd to find some lucky hourT
When on their queen the Muses waitS
But Pallas owns Ardelia's powerT
For vows divine are kept by FateS
-
Then full of rage Apollo spokeI
Deceitful nymph I see thy artS
And though I can't my gift revokeI
I'll disappoint its nobler partS
-
Let stubborn pride possess thee longU
And be thou negligent of fameC
With ev'ry Muse to grace thy songU
May'st thou despise a poet's nameC
-
Of modest poets be thou firstS
To silent shades repeat thy verseV
Till Fame and Echo almost burstS
Yet hardly dare one line rehearseV
-
And last my vengeance to compleatS
May you descend to take renownW
Prevail'd on by the thing you hateS
A Whig and one that wears a gownW

Jonathan Swift



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