Stella's Birthday, March 13, 1726 Poem Rhyme Scheme

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This day whate'er the Fates decree	A
Shall still be kept with joy by me	A
This day then let us not be told	B
That you are sick and I grown old	B
Nor think on our approaching ills	C
And talk of spectacles and pills	C
To morrow will be time enough	D
To hear such mortifying stuff	D
Yet since from reason may be brought	E
A better and more pleasing thought	E
Which can in spite of all decays	F
Support a few remaining days	F
From not the gravest of divines	F
Accept for once some serious lines	F
Although we now can form no more	G
Long schemes of life as heretofore	G
Yet you while time is running fast	H
Can look with joy on what is past	H
Were future happiness and pain	I
A mere contrivance of the brain	I
As Atheists argue to entice	F
And fit their proselytes for vice	F
The only comfort they propose	F
To have companions in their woes	F
Grant this the case yet sure 'tis hard	J
That virtue styled its own reward	K
And by all sages understood	L
To be the chief of human good	L
Should acting die or leave behind	M
Some lasting pleasure in the mind	M
Which by remembrance will assuage	N
Grief sickness poverty and age	N
And strongly shoot a radiant dart	O
To shine through life's declining part	O
Say Stella feel you no content	P
Reflecting on a life well spent	P
Your skilful hand employed to save	Q
Despairing wretches from the grave	Q
And then supporting with your store	G
Those whom you dragged from death before	G
So Providence on mortals waits	F
Preserving what it first creates	F
You generous boldness to defend	R
An innocent and absent friend	R
That courage which can make you just	S
To merit humbled in the dust	S
The detestation you express	F
For vice in all its glittering dress	F
That patience under to torturing pain	I
Where stubborn stoics would complain	I
Must these like empty shadows pass	F
Or forms reflected from a glass	F
Or mere chimaeras in the mind	M
That fly and leave no marks behind	M
Does not the body thrive and grow	T
By food of twenty years ago	T
And had it not been still supplied	U
It must a thousand times have died	U
Then who with reason can maintain	I
That no effects of food remain	I
And is not virtue in mankind	M
The nutriment that feeds the mind	M
Upheld by each good action past	H
And still continued by the last	H
Then who with reason can pretend	R
That all effects of virtue end	R
Believe me Stella when you show	T
That true contempt for things below	T
Nor prize your life for other ends	F
Than merely to oblige your friends	F
Your former actions claim their part	O
And join to fortify your heart	O
For virtue in her daily race	F
Like Janus bears a double face	F
Look back with joy where she has gone	V
And therefore goes with courage on	W
She at your sickly couch will wait	X
And guide you to a better state	X
O then whatever heav'n intends	F
Take pity on your pitying friends	F
Nor let your ills affect your mind	M
To fancy they can be unkind	M
Me surely me you ought to spare	Y
Who gladly would your sufferings share	Y
Or give my scrap of life to you	Z
And think it far beneath your due	Z
You to whose care so oft I owe	T
That I'm alive to tell you so	T

Jonathan Swift

Stella's Birthday, March 13, 1726 Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis

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