Prometheus[1]; On Wood The Patentee's Irish Halfpence[2] Poem Rhyme Scheme

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When first the squire and tinker Wood	A
Gravely consulting Ireland's good	A
Together mingled in a mass	B
Smith's dust and copper lead and brass	B
The mixture thus by chemic art	C
United close in ev'ry part	C
In fillets roll'd or cut in pieces	D
Appear'd like one continued species	E
And by the forming engine struck	F
On all the same impression took	G
So to confound this hated coin	H
All parties and religions join	H
Whigs Tories Trimmers Hanoverians	E
Quakers Conformists Presbyterians	E
Scotch Irish English French unite	I
With equal interest equal spite	I
Together mingled in a lump	J
Do all in one opinion jump	J
And ev'ry one begins to find	K
The same impression on his mind	K
A strange event whom gold incites	E
To blood and quarrels brass unites	E
So goldsmiths say the coarsest stuff	L
Will serve for solder well enough	L
So by the kettle's loud alarms	E
The bees are gather'd into swarms	E
So by the brazen trumpet's bluster	M
Troops of all tongues and nations muster	M
And so the harp of Ireland brings	E
Whole crowds about its brazen strings	E
There is a chain let down from Jove	L
But fasten'd to his throne above	L
So strong that from the lower end	N
They say all human things depend	N
This chain as ancient poets hold	O
When Jove was young was made of gold	O
Prometheus once this chain purloin'd	P
Dissolved and into money coin'd	P
Then whips me on a chain of brass	E
Venus was bribed to let it pass	E
Now while this brazen chain prevail'd	Q
Jove saw that all devotion fail'd	Q
No temple to his godship raised	R
No sacrifice on altars blazed	R
In short such dire confusion follow'd	S
Earth must have been in chaos swallow'd	S
Jove stood amazed but looking round	T
With much ado the cheat he found	T
'Twas plain he could no longer hold	O
The world in any chain but gold	O
And to the god of wealth his brother	M
Sent Mercury to get another	M
Prometheus on a rock is laid	U
Tied with the chain himself had made	U
On icy Caucasus to shiver	M
While vultures eat his growing liver	M
	-
Ye powers of Grub Street make me able	V
Discreetly to apply this fable	V
Say who is to be understood	A
By that old thief Prometheus Wood	A
For Jove it is not hard to guess him	W
I mean his majesty God bless him	W
This thief and blacksmith was so bold	O
He strove to steal that chain of gold	O
Which links the subject to the king	X
And change it for a brazen string	X
But sure if nothing else must pass	E
Betwixt the king and us but brass	E
Although the chain will never crack	Y
Yet our devotion may grow slack	Y
But Jove will soon convert I hope	Z
This brazen chain into a rope	Z
With which Prometheus shall be tied	A2
And high in air for ever ride	A2
Where if we find his liver grows	E
For want of vultures we have crows	E

Jonathan Swift

Prometheus[1]; On Wood The Patentee's Irish Halfpence[2] Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis

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