To Mr. Congreve Poem Rhyme Scheme

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Jonathan Swift

To Mr. Congreve Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis

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WRITTEN IN NOVEMBER	A
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Thrice with a prophet's voice and prophet's power	A
The Muse was called in a poetic hour	A
And insolently thrice the slighted maid	B
Dared to suspend her unregarded aid	B
Then with that grief we form in spirits divine	C
Pleads for her own neglect and thus reproaches mine	C
Once highly honoured false is the pretence	D
You make to truth retreat and innocence	D
Who to pollute my shades bring'st with thee down	E
The most ungenerous vices of the town	E
Ne'er sprung a youth from out this isle before	F
I once esteem'd and loved and favour'd more	F
Nor ever maid endured such courtlike scorn	G
So much in mode so very city born	G
'Tis with a foul design the Muse you send	H
Like a cast mistress to your wicked friend	H
But find some new address some fresh deceit	I
Nor practise such an antiquated cheat	I
These are the beaten methods of the stews	D
Stale forms of course all mean deceivers use	D
Who barbarously think to 'scape reproach	J
By prostituting her they first debauch	J
Thus did the Muse severe unkindly blame	K
This offering long design'd to Congreve's fame	K
First chid the zeal as unpoetic fire	A
Which soon his merit forced her to inspire	L
Then call this verse that speaks her largest aid	B
The greatest compliment she ever made	B
And wisely judge no power beneath divine	C
Could leap the bounds which part your world and mine	C
For youth believe to you unseen is fix'd	M
A mighty gulf unpassable betwixt	M
Nor tax the goddess of a mean design	C
To praise your parts by publishing of mine	C
That be my thought when some large bulky writ	N
Shows in the front the ambition of my wit	N
There to surmount what bears me up and sing	O
Like the victorious wren perch'd on the eagle's wing	O
This could I do and proudly o'er him tower	A
Were my desires but heighten'd to my power	A
Godlike the force of my young Congreve's bays	D
Softening the Muse's thunder into praise	D
Sent to assist an old unvanquish'd pride	P
That looks with scorn on half mankind beside	P
A pride that well suspends poor mortals' fate	Q
Gets between them and my resentment's weight	Q
Stands in the gap 'twixt me and wretched men	R
T'avert th'impending judgments of my pen	R
Thus I look down with mercy on the age	S
By hopes my Congreve will reform the stage	S
For never did poetic mind before	F
Produce a richer vein or cleaner ore	F
The bullion stamp'd in your refining mind	T
Serves by retail to furnish half mankind	T
With indignation I behold your wit	N
Forced on me crack'd and clipp'd and counterfeit	N
By vile pretenders who a stock maintain	U
From broken scraps and filings of your brain	U
Through native dross your share is hardly known	V
And by short views mistook for all their own	V
So small the gains those from your wit do reap	W
Who blend it into folly's larger heap	W
Like the sun's scatter'd beams which loosely pass	D
When some rough hand breaks the assembling glass	D
Yet want your critics no just cause to rail	X
Since knaves are ne'er obliged for what they steal	Y
These pad on wit's high road and suits maintain	U
With those they rob by what their trade does gain	U
Thus censure seems that fiery froth which breeds	D
O'er the sun's face and from his heat proceeds	D
Crusts o'er the day shadowing its partent beam	Z
As ancient nature's modern masters dream	Z
This bids some curious praters here below	A2
Call Titan sick because their sight is so	A2
And well methinks does this allusion fit	N
To scribblers and the god of light and wit	N
Those who by wild delusions entertain	U
A lust of rhyming for a poet's vein	U
Raise envy's clouds to leave themselves in night	B2
But can no more obscure my Congreve's light	B2
Than swarms of gnats that wanton in a ray	C2
Which gave them birth can rob the world of day	C2
What northern hive pour'd out these foes to wit	N
Whence came these Goths to overrun the pit	N
How would you blush the shameful birth to hear	D2
Of those you so ignobly stoop to fear	E2
For ill to them long have I travell'd since	D
Round all the circles of impertinence	D
Search'd in the nest where every worm did lie	F2
Before it grew a city butterfly	F2
I'm sure I found them other kind of things	D
Than those with backs of silk and golden wings	D
A search no doubt as curious and as wise	D
As virtuosoes' in dissecting flies	D
For could you think the fiercest foes you dread	G2
And court in prologues all are country bred	G2
Bred in my scene and for the poet's sins	D
Adjourn'd from tops and grammar to the inns	D
Those beds of dung where schoolboys sprout up beaux	D
Far sooner than the nobler mushroom grows	D
These are the lords of the poetic schools	D
Who preach the saucy pedantry of rules	D
Those powers the critics who may boast the odds	D
O'er Nile with all its wilderness of gods	D
Nor could the nations kneel to viler shapes	D
Which worshipp'd cats and sacrificed to apes	D
And can you think the wise forbear to laugh	H2
At the warm zeal that breeds this golden calf	H2
Haply you judge these lines severely writ	N
Against the proud usurpers of the pit	N
Stay while I tell my story short and true	I2
To draw conclusions shall be left to you	I2
Nor need I ramble far to force a rule	J2
But lay the scene just here at Farnham school	J2
Last year a lad hence by his parents sent	K2
With other cattle to the city went	K2
Where having cast his coat and well pursued	L2
The methods most in fashion to be lewd	L2
Return'd a finish'd spark this summer down	E
Stock'd with the freshest gibberish of the town	E
A jargon form'd from the lost language wit	N
Confounded in that Babel of the pit	N
Form'd by diseased conceptions weak and wild	M2
Sick lust of souls and an abortive child	M2
Born between whores and fops by lewd compacts	D
Before the play or else between the acts	D
Nor wonder if from such polluted minds	D
Should spring such short and transitory kinds	D
Or crazy rules to make us wits by rote	N2
Last just as long as every cuckoo's note	N2
What bungling rusty tools are used by fate	Q
'Twas in an evil hour to urge my hate	Q
My hate whose lash just Heaven has long decreed	O2
Shall on a day make sin and folly bleed	O2
When man's ill genius to my presence sent	K2
This wretch to rouse my wrath for ruin meant	K2
Who in his idiom vile with Gray's Inn grace	D
Squander'd his noisy talents to my face	D
Named every player on his fingers' ends	D
Swore all the wits were his peculiar friends	D
Talk'd with that saucy and familiar ease	D
Of Wycherly and you and Mr Bayes	D
Said how a late report your friends had vex'd	P2
Who heard you meant to write heroics next	P2
For tragedy he knew would lose you quite	B2
And told you so at Will's but t'other night	B2
Thus are the lives of fools a sort of dreams	D
Rendering shades things and substances of names	D
Such high companions may delusion keep	W
Lords are a footboy's cronies in his sleep	W
As a fresh miss by fancy face and gown	E
Render'd the topping beauty of the town	E
Draws every rhyming prating dressing sot	Q2
To boast of favours that he never got	R2
Of which whoe'er lacks confidence to prate	R2
Brings his good parts and breeding in debate	R2
And not the meanest coxcomb you can find	R2
But thanks his stars that Phillis has been kind	R2
Thus prostitute my Congreve's name is grown	V
To every lewd pretender of the town	E
Troth I could pity you but this is it	R2
You find to be the fashionable wit	R2
These are the slaves whom reputation chains	D
Whose maintenance requires no help from brains	D
For should the vilest scribbler to the pit	R2
Whom sin and want e'er furnish'd out a wit	R2
Whose name must not within my lines be shown	V
Lest here it live when perish'd with his own	V
Should such a wretch usurp my Congreve's place	D
And choose out wits who ne'er have seen his face	D
I'll bet my life but the dull cheat would pass	D
Nor need the lion's skin conceal the ass	D
Yes that beau's look that vice those critic ears	D
Must needs be right so well resembling theirs	D
Perish the Muse's hour thus vainly spent	R2
In satire to my Congreve's praises meant	R2
In how ill season her resentments rule	J2
What's that to her if mankind be a fool	J2
Happy beyond a private Muse's fate	R2
In pleasing all that's good among the great	R2
Where though her elder sisters crowding throng	S2
She still is welcome with her innocent song	S2
Whom were my Congreve blest to see and know	D
What poor regards would merit all below	D
How proudly would he haste the joy to meet	R2
And drop his laurel at Apollo's feet	R2
Here by a mountain's side a reverend cave	T2
Gives murmuring passage to a lasting wave	T2
'Tis the world's watery hour glass streaming fast	R2
Time is no more when th'utmost drop is past	R2
Here on a better day some druid dwelt	R2
And the young Muse's early favour felt	R2
Druid a name she does with pride repeat	R2
Confessing Albion once her darling seat	R2
Far in this primitive cell might we pursue	I2
Our predecessors' footsteps still in view	I2
Here would we sing But ah you think I dream	Z
And the bad world may well believe the same	K
Yes you are all malicious slanders by	F2
While two fond lovers prate the Muse and I	F2
Since thus I wander from my first intent	R2
Nor am that grave adviser which I meant	R2
Take this short lesson from the god of bays	D
And let my friend apply it as he please	D
Beat not the dirty paths where vulgar feet have trod	R2
But give the vigorous fancy room	U2
For when like stupid alchymists you try	F2
To fix this nimble god	R2
This volatile mercury	V2
The subtile spirit all flies up in fume	U2
Nor shall the bubbled virtuoso find	R2
More than fade insipid mixture left behind	R2
While thus I write vast shoals of critics come	W2
And on my verse pronounce their saucy doom	U2
The Muse like some bright country virgin shows	D
Fallen by mishap among a knot of beaux	D
They in their lewd and fashionable prate	R2
Rally her dress her language and her gait	R2
Spend their base coin before the bashful maid	R2
Current like copper and as often paid	R2
She who on shady banks has joy'd to sleep	W
Near better animals her father's sheep	W
Shamed and amazed beholds the chattering throng	S2
To think what cattle she is got among	X2
But with the odious smell and sight annoy'd	R2
In haste she does th'offensive herd avoid	R2
'Tis time to bid my friend a long farewell	Y2
The muse retreats far in yon crystal cell	Y2
Faint inspiration sickens as she flies	D
Like distant echo spent the spirit dies	D
In this descending sheet you'll haply find	R2
Some short refreshment for your weary mind	R2
Nought it contains is common or unclean	Z2
And once drawn up is ne'er let down again	R