On The Posteriors Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis

Rhyme Scheme: AABBCCDDAAEEAAFFGGEE AAAAHHCCCCIJAAKKCCAA LLEE

Because I am by nature blindA
I wisely choose to walk behindA
However to avoid disgraceB
I let no creature see my faceB
My words are few but spoke with senseC
And yet my speaking gives offenceC
Or if to whisper I presumeD
The company will fly the roomD
By all the world I am opprestA
And my oppression gives them restA
Through me though sore against my willE
Instructors every art instilE
By thousands I am sold and boughtA
Who neither get nor lose a groatA
For none alas by me can gainF
But those who give me greatest painF
Shall man presume to be my masterG
Who's but my caterer and tasterG
Yet though I always have my willE
I'm but a mere depender stillE
An humble hanger on at bestA
Of whom all people make a jestA
In me detractors seek to findA
Two vices of a different kindA
I'm too profuse some censurers cryH
And all I get I let it flyH
While others give me many a curseC
Because too close I hold my purseC
But this I know in either caseC
They dare not charge me to my faceC
'Tis true indeed sometimes I saveI
Sometimes run out of all I haveJ
But when the year is at an endA
Computing what I get and spendA
My goings out and comings inK
I cannot find I lose or winK
And therefore all that know me sayC
I justly keep the middle wayC
I'm always by my betters ledA
I last get up and first a bedA
Though if I rise before my timeL
The learn'd in sciences sublimeL
Consult the stars and thence foretellE
Good luck to those with whom I dwellE

Jonathan Swift



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About On The Posteriors

On The Posteriors is a poem by Jonathan Swift. This page includes the poem text, poet information, related topics, comments, and similar poems.



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