To Dr. Delany, On The Libels Written Against Him Poem Rhyme Scheme

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	A
	-
Tanti tibi non sit opaci	B
Omnis arena Tagi quodque in mare volvitur aurum Juv iii	C
	-
As some raw youth in country bred	D
To arms by thirst of honour led	D
When at a skirmish first he hears	B
The bullets whistling round his ears	B
Will duck his head aside will start	E
And feel a trembling at his heart	E
Till 'scaping oft without a wound	F
Lessens the terror of the sound	F
Fly bullets now as thick as hops	B
He runs into a cannon's chops	B
An author thus who pants for fame	G
Begins the world with fear and shame	G
When first in print you see him dread	D
Each pop gun levell'd at his head	D
The lead yon critic's quill contains	B
Is destined to beat out his brains	B
As if he heard loud thunders roll	H
Cries Lord have mercy on his soul	H
Concluding that another shot	I
Will strike him dead upon the spot	I
But when with squibbing flashing popping	J
He cannot see one creature dropping	J
That missing fire or missing aim	G
His life is safe I mean his fame	G
The danger past takes heart of grace	B
And looks a critic in the face	B
Though splendour gives the fairest mark	K
To poison'd arrows in the dark	K
Yet in yourself when smooth and round	F
They glance aside without a wound	F
'Tis said the gods tried all their art	E
How pain they might from pleasure part	E
But little could their strength avail	L
Both still are fasten'd by the tail	L
Thus fame and censure with a tether	M
By fate are always link'd together	M
Why will you aim to be preferr'd	N
In wit before the common herd	N
And yet grow mortified and vex'd	O
To pay the penalty annex'd	O
'Tis eminence makes envy rise	B
As fairest fruits attract the flies	B
Should stupid libels grieve your mind	P
You soon a remedy may find	P
Lie down obscure like other folks	B
Below the lash of snarlers' jokes	B
Their faction is five hundred odds	B
For every coxcomb lends them rods	B
And sneers as learnedly as they	Q
Like females o'er their morning tea	R
You say the Muse will not contain	S
And write you must or break a vein	S
Then if you find the terms too hard	T
No longer my advice regard	T
But raise your fancy on the wing	J
The Irish senate's praises sing	J
How jealous of the nation's freedom	U
And for corruptions how they weed 'em	U
How each the public good pursues	B
How far their hearts from private views	B
Make all true patriots up to shoe boys	B
Huzza their brethren at the Blue boys	B
Thus grown a member of the club	V
No longer dread the rage of Grub	V
How oft am I for rhyme to seek	W
To dress a thought I toil a week	W
And then how thankful to the town	X
If all my pains will earn a crown	X
While every critic can devour	M
My work and me in half an hour	M
Would men of genius cease to write	Y
The rogues must die for want and spite	Y
Must die for want of food and raiment	Y
If scandal did not find them payment	Y
How cheerfully the hawkers cry	Z
A satire and the gentry buy	Z
While my hard labour'd poem pines	B
Unsold upon the printer's lines	B
A genius in the reverend gown	X
Must ever keep its owner down	X
'Tis an unnatural conjunction	A2
And spoils the credit of the function	A2
Round all your brethren cast your eyes	B
Point out the surest men to rise	B
That club of candidates in black	B2
The least deserving of the pack	B2
Aspiring factious fierce and loud	Y
With grace and learning unendow'd	Y
Can turn their hands to every job	C2
The fittest tools to work for Bob	C2
Will sooner coin a thousand lies	B
Than suffer men of parts to rise	B
They crowd about preferment's gate	Y
And press you down with all their weight	Y
For as of old mathematicians	B
Were by the vulgar thought magicians	B
So academic dull ale drinkers	B
Pronounce all men of wit free thinkers	B
Wit as the chief of virtue's friends	B
Disdains to serve ignoble ends	B
Observe what loads of stupid rhymes	B
Oppress us in corrupted times	B
What pamphlets in a court's defence	B
Show reason grammar truth or sense	B
For though the Muse delights in fiction	A2
She ne'er inspires against conviction	A2
Then keep your virtue still unmixt	Y
And let not faction come betwixt	Y
By party steps no grandeur climb at	Y
Though it would make you England's primate	Y
First learn the science to be dull	D2
You then may soon your conscience lull	D2
If not however seated high	Z
Your genius in your face will fly	Z
When Jove was from his teeming head	Y
Of Wit's fair goddess brought to bed	Y
There follow'd at his lying in	E2
For after birth a sooterkin	E2
Which as the nurse pursued to kill	F2
Attain'd by flight the Muses' hill	F2
There in the soil began to root	Y
And litter'd at Parnassus' foot	Y
From hence the critic vermin sprung	G2
With harpy claws and poisonous tongue	G2
Who fatten on poetic scraps	B
Too cunning to be caught in traps	B
Dame Nature as the learned show	H2
Provides each animal its foe	H2
Hounds hunt the hare the wily fox	B
Devours your geese the wolf your flocks	B
Thus Envy pleads a natural claim	G
To persecute the Muse's fame	G
On poets in all times abusive	I2
From Homer down to Pope inclusive	I2
Yet what avails it to complain	E2
You try to take revenge in vain	E2
A rat your utmost rage defies	B
That safe behind the wainscot lies	B
Say did you ever know by sight	Y
In cheese an individual mite	Y
Show me the same numeric flea	R
That bit your neck but yesterday	Y
You then may boldly go in quest	Y
To find the Grub Street poet's nest	Y
What spunging house in dread of jail	L
Receives them while they wait for bail	L
What alley are they nestled in	E2
To flourish o'er a cup of gin	E2
Find the last garret where they lay	Y
Or cellar where they starve to day	Y
Suppose you have them all trepann'd	Y
With each a libel in his hand	Y
What punishment would you inflict	Y
Or call them rogues or get them kickt	Y
These they have often tried before	J2
You but oblige them so much more	J2
Themselves would be the first to tell	K2
To make their trash the better sell	K2
You have been libell'd Let us know	H2
What fool officious told you so	H2
Will you regard the hawker's cries	B
Who in his titles always lies	B
Whate'er the noisy scoundrel says	B
It might be something in your praise	B
And praise bestow'd in Grub Street rhymes	B
Would vex one more a thousand times	B
Till critics blame and judges praise	B
The poet cannot claim his bays	B
On me when dunces are satiric	L2
I take it for a panegyric	L2
Hated by fools and fools to hate	Y
Be that my motto and my fate	Y

Jonathan Swift

To Dr. Delany, On The Libels Written Against Him Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis

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