Verses On The Death Of Dr. Swift, D.s.p.d. Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis

Rhyme Scheme: AB CCDD EEFF GG HH IIJJCCKK DDLLDD DDMM NNOO PQDD RRDDLLSTUUVVDD WW DDXX YYDDDDZZ DDDD ZZ A2A2FFDDB2C2RRDDD2E2 DDTF2DDG2G2TTDD ZZDDH2H2 I2I2DD UUJ2J2K2K2 GG GGDDGGGGOODDDDA2A2TT L2L2DDDDDD M2M2DD N2N2DDLLO2O2GGZZDDLL DD DDTT ZZGGGGDD DD P2P2DDDDH2H2K2K2 NNGGQ2Q2DD GGTTGGDD DDWW TTTTGGDDDD TTP2P2K2K2 GGGGR2R2R2R2DDDDR2R2 DDGG TTP2P2DDR2R2DDGGZZL2 L2GGTTZZDDS2S2ZZP2P2 DDLLLLDD LLT2T2DDDDLLT2T2TTGG TT GGDDDDGG DDGGZZDDU2U2MM ZZGGGGLLDDGGGGDDGGMM ZZDDTTDDTTMMDDDD H2H2DDDDDDGGTTK2LTT GGGGDDDDGGDDR2R2T2T2 TTDD P2P2TTGGDD LLGGGGGG DDR2R2K2LDD DDV2V2LLDDDDGGLLDD DDWW DDDDTTGGLLDDW2W2GGTT GG LLDDZZDDDDX2X2GGDDDD DD GGDD DDY2Y2TT

Dans l'adversit eacute de nos meilleurs amis	A
nous trouvons quelque chose qui ne nous d eacute pla icirc t pas	B
	-
	-
As Rochefoucauld his maxims drew	C
From Nature I believe 'em true	C
They argue no corrupted mind	D
In him the fault is in mankind	D
	-
This maxim more than all the rest	E
Is thought too base for human breast	E
In all distresses of our friends	F
We first consult our private ends	F
	-
While Nature kindly bent to ease us	G
Points out some circumstance to please us	G
	-
If this perhaps your patience move	H
Let reason and experience prove	H
	-
We all behold with envious eyes	I
Our equal rais'd above our size	I
Who would not at a crowded show	J
Stand high himself keep others low	J
I love my friend as well as you	C
But would not have him stop my view	C
Then let him have the higher post	K
I ask but for an inch at most	K
	-
If in a battle you should find	D
One whom you love of all mankind	D
Had some heroic action done	L
A champion kill'd or trophy won	L
Rather than thus be overtopt	D
Would you not wish his laurels cropt	D
	-
Dear honest Ned is in the gout	D
Lies rack'd with pain and you without	D
How patiently you hear him groan	M
How glad the case is not your own	M
	-
What poet would not grieve to see	N
His brethren write as well as he	N
But rather than they should excel	O
He'd wish his rivals all in hell	O
	-
Her end when emulation misses	P
She turns to envy stings and hisses	Q
The strongest friendship yields to pride	D
Unless the odds be on our side	D
	-
Vain human kind fantastic race	R
Thy various follies who can trace	R
Self love ambition envy pride	D
Their empire in our hearts divide	D
Give others riches power and station	L
'Tis all on me a usurpation	L
I have no title to aspire	S
Yet when you sink I seem the higher	T
In Pope I cannot read a line	U
But with a sigh I wish it mine	U
When he can in one couplet fix	V
More sense than I can do in six	V
It gives me such a jealous fit	D
I cry Pox take him and his wit	D
	-
Why must I be outdone by Gay	W
In my own hum'rous biting way	W
	-
Arbuthnot is no more my friend	D
Who dares to irony pretend	D
Which I was born to introduce	X
Refin'd it first and show'd its use	X
	-
St John as well as Pultney knows	Y
That I had some repute for prose	Y
And till they drove me out of date	D
Could maul a minister of state	D
If they have mortify'd my pride	D
And made me throw my pen aside	D
If with such talents Heav'n has blest 'em	Z
Have I not reason to detest 'em	Z
	-
To all my foes dear Fortune send	D
Thy gifts but never to my friend	D
I tamely can endure the first	D
But this with envy makes me burst	D
	-
Thus much may serve by way of proem	Z
Proceed we therefore to our poem	Z
	-
The time is not remote when I	A2
Must by the course of nature die	A2
When I foresee my special friends	F
Will try to find their private ends	F
Tho' it is hardly understood	D
Which way my death can do them good	D
Yet thus methinks I hear 'em speak	B2
See how the Dean begins to break	C2
Poor gentleman he droops apace	R
You plainly find it in his face	R
That old vertigo in his head	D
Will never leave him till he's dead	D
Besides his memory decays	D2
He recollects not what he says	E2
He cannot call his friends to mind	D
Forgets the place where last he din'd	D
Plies you with stories o'er and o'er	T
He told them fifty times before	F2
How does he fancy we can sit	D
To hear his out of fashion'd wit	D
But he takes up with younger folks	G2
Who for his wine will bear his jokes	G2
Faith he must make his stories shorter	T
Or change his comrades once a quarter	T
In half the time he talks them round	D
There must another set be found	D
	-
For poetry he's past his prime	Z
He takes an hour to find a rhyme	Z
His fire is out his wit decay'd	D
His fancy sunk his Muse a jade	D
I'd have him throw away his pen	H2
But there's no talking to some men	H2
	-
And then their tenderness appears	I2
By adding largely to my years	I2
He's older than he would be reckon'd	D
And well remembers Charles the Second	D
	-
He hardly drinks a pint of wine	U
And that I doubt is no good sign	U
His stomach too begins to fail	J2
Last year we thought him strong and hale	J2
But now he's quite another thing	K2
I wish he may hold out till spring	K2
	-
Then hug themselves and reason thus	G
It is not yet so bad with us	G
	-
In such a case they talk in tropes	G
And by their fears express their hopes	G
Some great misfortune to portend	D
No enemy can match a friend	D
With all the kindness they profess	G
The merit of a lucky guess	G
When daily How d'ye's come of course	G
And servants answer Worse and worse	G
Would please 'em better than to tell	O
That God be prais'd the Dean is well	O
Then he who prophecy'd the best	D
Approves his foresight to the rest	D
You know I always fear'd the worst	D
And often told you so at first	D
He'd rather choose that I should die	A2
Than his prediction prove a lie	A2
Not one foretells I shall recover	T
But all agree to give me over	T
	-
Yet should some neighbour feel a pain	L2
Just in the parts where I complain	L2
How many a message would he send	D
What hearty prayers that I should mend	D
Inquire what regimen I kept	D
What gave me ease and how I slept	D
And more lament when I was dead	D
Than all the sniv'llers round my bed	D
	-
My good companions never fear	M2
For though you may mistake a year	M2
Though your prognostics run too fast	D
They must be verify'd at last	D
	-
Behold the fatal day arrive	N2
How is the Dean He's just alive	N2
Now the departing prayer is read	D
He hardly breathes The Dean is dead	D
Before the passing bell begun	L
The news thro' half the town has run	L
O may we all for death prepare	O2
What has he left and who's his heir	O2
I know no more than what the news is	G
'Tis all bequeath'd to public uses	G
To public use a perfect whim	Z
What had the public done for him	Z
Mere envy avarice and pride	D
He gave it all but first he died	D
And had the Dean in all the nation	L
No worthy friend no poor relation	L
So ready to do strangers good	D
Forgetting his own flesh and blood	D
	-
Now Grub Street wits are all employ'd	D
With elegies the town is cloy'd	D
Some paragraph in ev'ry paper	T
To curse the Dean or bless the Drapier	T
	-
The doctors tender of their fame	Z
Wisely on me lay all the blame	Z
We must confess his case was nice	G
But he would never take advice	G
Had he been rul'd for aught appears	G
He might have liv'd these twenty years	G
For when we open'd him we found	D
That all his vital parts were sound	D
	-
From Dublin soon to London spread	D
'Tis told at Court the Dean is dead	D
	-
Kind Lady Suffolk in the spleen	P2
Runs laughing up to tell the Queen	P2
The Queen so gracious mild and good	D
Cries Is he gone 'tis time he should	D
He's dead you say why let him rot	D
I'm glad the medals were forgot	D
I promis'd them I own but when	H2
I only was the Princess then	H2
But now as consort of a king	K2
You know 'tis quite a different thing	K2
	-
Now Chartres at Sir Robert's levee	N
Tells with a sneer the tidings heavy	N
Why is he dead without his shoes	G
Cries Bob I'm sorry for the news	G
O were the wretch but living still	Q2
And in his place my good friend Will	Q2
Or had a mitre on his head	D
Provided Bolingbroke were dead	D
	-
Now Curll his shop from rubbish drains	G
Three genuine tomes of Swift's remains	G
And then to make them pass the glibber	T
Revis'd by Tibbalds Moore and Cibber	T
He'll treat me as he does my betters	G
Publish my will my life my letters	G
Revive the libels born to die	D
Which Pope must bear as well as I	D
	-
Here shift the scene to represent	D
How those I love my death lament	D
Poor Pope will grieve a month and Gay	W
A week and Arbuthnot a day	W
	-
St John himself will scarce forbear	T
To bite his pen and drop a tear	T
The rest will give a shrug and cry	T
I'm sorry but we all must die	T
Indifference clad in Wisdom's guise	G
All fortitude of mind supplies	G
For how can stony bowels melt	D
In those who never pity felt	D
When we are lash'd they kiss the rod	D
Resigning to the will of God	D
	-
The fools my juniors by a year	T
Are tortur'd with suspense and fear	T
Who wisely thought my age a screen	P2
When death approach'd to stand between	P2
The screen remov'd their hearts are trembling	K2
They mourn for me without dissembling	K2
	-
My female friends whose tender hearts	G
Have better learn'd to act their parts	G
Receive the news in doleful dumps	G
The Dean is dead and what is trumps	G
Then Lord have mercy on his soul	R2
Ladies I'll venture for the vole	R2
Six deans they say must bear the pall	R2
I wish I knew what king to call	R2
Madam your husband will attend	D
The funeral of so good a friend	D
No madam 'tis a shocking sight	D
And he's engag'd to morrow night	D
My Lady Club would take it ill	R2
If he should fail her at quadrille	R2
He lov'd the Dean I lead a heart	D
But dearest friends they say must part	D
His time was come he ran his race	G
We hope he's in a better place	G
	-
Why do we grieve that friends should die	T
No loss more easy to supply	T
One year is past a different scene	P2
No further mention of the Dean	P2
Who now alas no more is miss'd	D
Than if he never did exist	D
Where's now this fav'rite of Apollo	R2
Departed and his works must follow	R2
Must undergo the common fate	D
His kind of wit is out of date	D
Some country squire to Lintot goes	G
Inquires for Swift in Verse and Prose	G
Says Lintot I have heard the name	Z
He died a year ago The same	Z
He searcheth all his shop in vain	L2
Sir you may find them in Duck lane	L2
I sent them with a load of books	G
Last Monday to the pastry cook's	G
To fancy they could live a year	T
I find you're but a stranger here	T
The Dean was famous in his time	Z
And had a kind of knack at rhyme	Z
His way of writing now is past	D
The town hath got a better taste	D
I keep no antiquated stuff	S2
But spick and span I have enough	S2
Pray do but give me leave to show 'em	Z
Here's Colley Cibber's birth day poem	Z
This ode you never yet have seen	P2
By Stephen Duck upon the Queen	P2
Then here's a letter finely penn'd	D
Against the Craftsman and his friend	D
It clearly shows that all reflection	L
On ministers is disaffection	L
Next here's Sir Robert's vindication	L
And Mr Henley's last oration	L
The hawkers have not got 'em yet	D
Your honour please to buy a set	D
	-
Here's Woolston's tracts the twelfth edition	L
'Tis read by every politician	L
The country members when in town	T2
To all their boroughs send them down	T2
You never met a thing so smart	D
The courtiers have them all by heart	D
Those maids of honour who can read	D
Are taught to use them for their creed	D
The rev'rend author's good intention	L
Hath been rewarded with a pension	L
He doth an honour to his gown	T2
By bravely running priestcraft down	T2
He shows as sure as God's in Gloucester	T
That Jesus was a grand imposter	T
That all his miracles were cheats	G
Perform'd as jugglers do their feats	G
The church had never such a writer	T
A shame he hath not got a mitre	T
	-
Suppose me dead and then suppose	G
A club assembled at the Rose	G
Where from discourse of this and that	D
I grow the subject of their chat	D
And while they toss my name about	D
With favour some and some without	D
One quite indiff'rent in the cause	G
My character impartial draws	G
	-
The Dean if we believe report	D
Was never ill receiv'd at Court	D
As for his works in verse and prose	G
I own myself no judge of those	G
Nor can I tell what critics thought 'em	Z
But this I know all people bought 'em	Z
As with a moral view design'd	D
To cure the vices of mankind	D
His vein ironically grave	U2
Expos'd the fool and lash'd the knave	U2
To steal a hint was never known	M
But what he writ was all his own	M
	-
He never thought an honour done him	Z
Because a duke was proud to own him	Z
Would rather slip aside and choose	G
To talk with wits in dirty shoes	G
Despis'd the fools with stars and garters	G
So often seen caressing Chartres	G
He never courted men in station	L
Nor persons held in admiration	L
Of no man's greatness was afraid	D
Because he sought for no man's aid	D
Though trusted long in great affairs	G
He gave himself no haughty airs	G
Without regarding private ends	G
Spent all his credit for his friends	G
And only chose the wise and good	D
No flatt'rers no allies in blood	D
But succour'd virtue in distress	G
And seldom fail'd of good success	G
As numbers in their hearts must own	M
Who but for him had been unknown	M
	-
With princes kept a due decorum	Z
But never stood in awe before 'em	Z
He follow'd David's lesson just	D
'In princes never put thy trust'	D
And would you make him truly sour	T
Provoke him with a slave in pow'r	T
The Irish senate if you nam'd	D
With what impatience he declaim'd	D
Fair Liberty was all his cry	T
For her he stood prepar'd to die	T
For her he boldly stood alone	M
For her he oft expos'd his own	M
Two kingdoms just as faction led	D
Had set a price upon his head	D
But not a traitor could be found	D
To sell him for six hundred pound	D
	-
Had he but spar'd his tongue and pen	H2
He might have rose like other men	H2
But pow'r was never in his thought	D
And wealth he valu'd not a groat	D
Ingratitude he often found	D
And pity'd those who meant the wound	D
But kept the tenor of his mind	D
To merit well of human kind	D
Nor made a sacrifice of those	G
Who still were true to please his foes	G
He labour'd many a fruitless hour	T
To reconcile his friends in pow'r	T
Saw mischief by a faction brewing	K2
While they pursu'd each other's ruin	L
But finding vain was all his care	T
He left the Court in mere despair	T
	-
And oh how short are human schemes	G
Here ended all our golden dreams	G
What St John's skill in state affairs	G
What Ormond's valour Oxford's cares	G
To save their sinking country lent	D
Was all destroy'd by one event	D
Too soon that precious life was ended	D
On which alone our weal depended	D
When up a dangerous faction starts	G
With wrath and vengeance in their hearts	G
By solemn League and Cov'nant bound	D
To ruin slaughter and confound	D
To turn religion to a fable	R2
And make the government a Babel	R2
Pervert the law disgrace the gown	T2
Corrupt the senate rob the crown	T2
To sacrifice old England's glory	T
And make her infamous in story	T
When such a tempest shook the land	D
How could unguarded Virtue stand	D
	-
With horror grief despair the Dean	P2
Beheld the dire destructive scene	P2
His friends in exile or the tower	T
Himself within the frown of power	T
Pursu'd by base envenom'd pens	G
Far to the land of slaves and fens	G
A servile race in folly nurs'd	D
Who truckle most when treated worst	D
	-
By innocence and resolution	L
He bore continual persecution	L
While numbers to preferment rose	G
Whose merits were to be his foes	G
When ev'n his own familiar friends	G
Intent upon their private ends	G
Like renegadoes now he feels	G
Against him lifting up their heels	G
	-
The Dean did by his pen defeat	D
An infamous destructive cheat	D
Taught fools their int'rest how to know	R2
And gave them arms to ward the blow	R2
Envy hath own'd it was his doing	K2
To save that helpless land from ruin	L
While they who at the steerage stood	D
And reap'd the profit sought his blood	D
	-
To save them from their evil fate	D
In him was held a crime of state	D
A wicked monster on the bench	V2
Whose fury blood could never quench	V2
As vile and profligate a villain	L
As modern Scroggs or old Tresilian	L
Who long all justice had discarded	D
Nor fear'd he God nor man regarded	D
Vow'd on the Dean his rage to vent	D
And make him of his zeal repent	D
But Heav'n his innocence defends	G
The grateful people stand his friends	G
Not strains of law nor judge's frown	L
Nor topics brought to please the crown	L
Nor witness hir'd nor jury pick'd	D
Prevail to bring him in convict	D
	-
In exile with a steady heart	D
He spent his life's declining part	D
Where folly pride and faction sway	W
Remote from St John Pope and Gay	W
	-
His friendships there to few confin'd	D
Were always of the middling kind	D
No fools of rank a mongrel breed	D
Who fain would pass for lords indeed	D
Where titles gave no right or power	T
And peerage is a wither'd flower	T
He would have held it a disgrace	G
If such a wretch had known his face	G
On rural squires that kingdom's bane	L
He vented oft his wrath in vain	L
Biennial squires to market brought	D
Who sell their souls and votes for nought	D
The nation stripp'd go joyful back	W2
To rob the church their tenants rack	W2
Go snacks with thieves and rapparees	G
And keep the peace to pick up fees	G
In ev'ry job to have a share	T
A jail or barrack to repair	T
And turn the tax for public roads	G
Commodious to their own abodes	G
	-
Perhaps I may allow the Dean	L
Had too much satire in his vein	L
And seem'd determin'd not to starve it	D
Because no age could more deserve it	D
Yet malice never was his aim	Z
He lash'd the vice but spar'd the name	Z
No individual could resent	D
Where thousands equally were meant	D
His satire points at no defect	D
But what all mortals may correct	D
For he abhorr'd that senseless tribe	X2
Who call it humour when they gibe	X2
He spar'd a hump or crooked nose	G
Whose owners set not up for beaux	G
True genuine dulness mov'd his pity	D
Unless it offer'd to be witty	D
Those who their ignorance confess'd	D
He ne'er offended with a jest	D
But laugh'd to hear an idiot quote	D
A verse from Horace learn'd by rote	D
	-
He knew a hundred pleasant stories	G
With all the turns of Whigs and Tories	G
Was cheerful to his dying day	D
And friends would let him have his way	D
	-
He gave the little wealth he had	D
To build a house for fools and mad	D
And show'd by one satiric touch	Y2
No nation wanted it so much	Y2
That kingdom he hath left his debtor	T
I wish it soon may have a better	T

Jonathan Swift

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