The Run Upon The Bankers[1] Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis

Rhyme Scheme: ABAB CDCD EFEF GHGH IJIJ KLKL MNMN NNNN OPOP NQNQ RSRS NNNN NTNT UVUV TNTN WRWR

The bold encroachers on the deepA
Gain by degrees huge tracts of landB
Till Neptune with one general sweepA
Turns all again to barren strandB
-
The multitude's capricious pranksC
Are said to represent the seasD
Breaking the bankers and the banksC
Resume their own whene'er they pleaseD
-
Money the life blood of the nationE
Corrupts and stagnates in the veinsF
Unless a proper circulationE
Its motion and its heat maintainsF
-
Because 'tis lordly not to payG
Quakers and aldermen in stateH
Like peers have levees every dayG
Of duns attending at their gateH
-
We want our money on the nailI
The banker's ruin'd if he paysJ
They seem to act an ancient taleI
The birds are met to strip the jaysJ
-
Riches the wisest monarch singsK
Make pinions for themselves to flyL
They fly like bats on parchment wingsK
And geese their silver plumes supplyL
-
No money left for squandering heirsM
Bills turn the lenders into debtorsN
The wish of Nero now is theirsM
That they had never known their lettersN
-
Conceive the works of midnight hagsN
Tormenting fools behind their backsN
Thus bankers o'er their bills and bagsN
Sit squeezing images of waxN
-
Conceive the whole enchantment brokeO
The witches left in open airP
With power no more than other folkO
Exposed with all their magic wareP
-
So powerful are a banker's billsN
Where creditors demand their dueQ
They break up counters doors and tillsN
And leave the empty chests in viewQ
-
Thus when an earthquake lets in lightR
Upon the god of gold and hellS
Unable to endure the sightR
He hides within his darkest cellS
-
As when a conjurer takes a leaseN
From Satan for a term of yearsN
The tenant's in a dismal caseN
Whene'er the bloody bond appearsN
-
A baited banker thus despondsN
From his own hand foresees his fallT
They have his soul who have his bondsN
'Tis like the writing on the wallT
-
How will the caitiff wretch be scaredU
When first he finds himself awakeV
At the last trumpet unpreparedU
And all his grand account to makeV
-
For in that universal callT
Few bankers will to heaven be mountersN
They'll cry Ye shops upon us fallT
Conceal and cover us ye countersN
-
When other hands the scales shall holdW
And they in men's and angels' sightR
Produced with all their bills and goldW
Weigh'd in the balance and found lightR

Jonathan Swift



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