Poetical Epistle To Dr. Sheridan Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis
Rhyme Scheme: AABBCCDDCCCCEEFFGGCC HHIIJKLLDDCCMMHHNNAA OOPPDDCDCC P Q| Some ancient authors wisely write | A |
| That he who drinks will wake at night | A |
| Will never fail to lose his rest | B |
| And feel a streightness in his chest | B |
| A streightness in a double sense | C |
| A streightness both of breath and pence | C |
| Physicians say it is but reasonable | D |
| He that comes home at hour unseasonable | D |
| Besides a fall and broken shins | C |
| Those smaller judgments for his sins | C |
| If when he goes to bed he meets | C |
| A teasing wife between the sheets | C |
| 'Tis six to five he'll never sleep | E |
| But rave and toss till morning peep | E |
| Yet harmless Betty must be blamed | F |
| Because you feel your lungs inflamed | F |
| But if you would not get a fever | G |
| You never must one moment leave her | G |
| This comes of all your drunken tricks | C |
| Your Parry's and your brace of Dicks | C |
| Your hunting Helsham in his laboratory | H |
| Too was the time you saw that Drab lac a Pery | H |
| But like the prelate who lives yonder a | I |
| And always cries he is like Cassandra | I |
| I always told you Mr Sheridan | J |
| If once this company you were rid on | K |
| Frequented honest folk and very few | L |
| You'd live till all your friends were weary of you | L |
| But if rack punch you still would swallow | D |
| I then forewarn'd you what would follow | D |
| Are the Deanery sober hours | C |
| Be witness for me all ye powers | C |
| The cloth is laid at eight and then | M |
| We sit till half an hour past ten | M |
| One bottle well might serve for three | H |
| If Mrs Robinson drank like me | H |
| Ask how I fret when she has beckon'd | N |
| To Robert to bring up a second | N |
| I hate to have it in my sight | A |
| And drink my share in perfect spite | A |
| If Robin brings the ladies word | O |
| The coach is come I 'scape a third | O |
| If not why then I fall a talking | P |
| How sweet a night it is for walking | P |
| For in all conscience were my treasure able | D |
| I'd think a quart a piece unreasonable | D |
| It strikes eleven get out of doors | C |
| This is my constant farewell | D |
| Yours | C |
| J S | C |
| - | |
| October nine in the morning | P |
| - | |
| You had best hap yourself up in a chair and dine with me than with the provost | Q |
Jonathan Swift
(1)
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