Poems List

Robin And Harry

Robin And Harry

Robin to beggars with a curse,
Throws the last shilling in his purse;
And when the coachman comes for pay,
The rogue must call another day.
Grave Harry, when the poor are pressing
Gives them a penny and God's blessing;
But always careful of the main,
With twopence left, walks home in rain.
Robin from noon to night will prate,
Run out in tongue, as in estate;
And, ere a twelvemonth and a day,
Will not have one new thing to say.
Much talking is not Harry's vice;
He need not tell a story twice:
And, if he always be so thrifty,
His fund may last to five-and-fifty.
It so fell out that cautious Harry,
As soldiers use, for love must marry,
And, with his dame, the ocean cross'd;
(All for Love, or the World well Lost!)
Repairs a cabin gone to ruin,
Just big enough to shelter two in;
And in his house, if anybody come,
Will make them welcome to his modicum
Where Goody Julia milks the cows,
And boils potatoes for her spouse;
Or darns his hose, or mends his breeches,
While Harry's fencing up his ditches.
Robin, who ne'er his mind could fix,
To live without a coach-and-six,
To patch his broken fortunes, found
A mistress worth five thousand pound;
Swears he could get her in an hour,
If gaffer Harry would endow her;
And sell, to pacify his wrath,
A birth-right for a mess of broth.
Young Harry, as all Europe knows,
Was long the quintessence of beaux;
But, when espoused, he ran the fate
That must attend the married state;
From gold brocade and shining armour,
Was metamorphosed to a farmer;
His grazier's coat with dirt besmear'd;
Nor twice a-week will shave his beard.
Old Robin, all his youth a sloven,
At fifty-two, when he grew loving,
Clad in a coat of paduasoy,
A flaxen wig, and waistcoat gay,
Powder'd from shoulder down to flank,
In courtly style addresses Frank;
Twice ten years older than his wife,
Is doom'd to be a beau for life;



Supplying those defects by dress,
Which I must leave the world to guess.
262

Parody On The Recorder’s Speech To His Grace The Duke Of Ormond, 4th July,

Parody On The Recorder’s Speech To His Grace The Duke Of Ormond, 4th July,
1711

THE RECORDER'S SPEECH EXPLAINED BY THE TORIES


An ancient metropolis, famous of late
For opposing the Church, and for nosing the State,
For protecting sedition and rejecting order,
Made the following speech by their mouth, the Recorder:
First, to tell you the name of this place of renown,
Some still call it Dublin, but most Forster's town.


THE SPEECH


May it please your Grace,
We cannot omit this occasion to tell,
That we love the Queen's person and government well;
Then next, to your Grace we this compliment make,
That our worships regard you, but 'tis for her sake:
Though our mouth be a Whig, and our head a Dissenter,
Yet salute you we must, 'cause you represent her:
Nor can we forget, sir, that some of your line
Did with mildness and peace in this government shine.
But of all your exploits, we'll allow but one fact,
That your Grace has procured us a Popery Act.
By this you may see that the least of your actions
Does conduce still the most to our satisfactions.
And lastly, because in the year eighty-eight
You did early appear in defence of our right,
We give no other proof of your zeal to your Prince;
So we freely forget all your services since.
It's then only we hope, that whilst you rule o'er us,
You'll tread in the steps of King William the glorious,
Whom we're always adoring, tho' hand over head,
For we owe him allegiance, although he be dead;
Which shows that good zeal may be founded in spleen,
Since a dead Prince we worship, to lessen the Queen.
And as for her Majesty, we will defend her
Against our hobgoblin, the Popish Pretender.
Our valiant militia will stoutly stand by her,
Against the sly Jack, and the sturdy High-flier.
She is safe when thus guarded, if Providence bless her,
And Hanover's sure to be next her successor.
Thus ended the speech, but what heart would not pity
His Grace, almost choked with the breath of the City!
184

On Time

On Time

Ever eating, never cloying,
All-devouring, all-destroying,
Never finding full repast,
Till I eat the world at last.
205

On The Vowels

On The Vowels

We are little airy creatures,
All of different voice and features;
One of us in glass is set,
One of us you'll find in jet.
T'other you may see in tin,
And the fourth a box within.
If the fifth you should pursue,
It can never fly from you.
255

On The Moon

On The Moon

I with borrow'd silver shine
What you see is none of mine.
First I show you but a quarter,
Like the bow that guards the Tartar:
Then the half, and then the whole,
Ever dancing round the pole.


What will raise your admiration,
I am not one of God's creation,
But sprung, (and I this truth maintain,)
Like Pallas, from my father's brain.
And after all, I chiefly owe
My beauty to the shades below.
Most wondrous forms you see me wear,
A man, a woman, lion, bear,
A fish, a fowl, a cloud, a field,
All figures Heaven or earth can yield;
Like Daphne sometimes in a tree;
Yet am not one of all you see.
260

On Stella's Birth-Day, 1719

On Stella's Birth-Day, 1719

Stella this Day is thirty four,
(We shan't dispute a Year or more)
However Stella, be not troubled,
Although thy Size and Years are doubled,
Since first I saw Thee at Sixteen
The brightest Virgin on the Green,
So little is thy Form declin'd
Made up so largely in thy Mind.
Oh, woud it please the Gods to split
Thy Beauty, Size, and Years, and Wit,
No Age could furnish out a Pair
Of Nymphs so graceful, Wise and fair
With half the Lustre of your Eyes,
With half your Wit, your Years and Size:
And then before it grew too late,
How should I beg of gentle Fate,
(That either Nymph might have her Swain,)
To split my Worship too in twain.
307

On The Five Senses

On The Five Senses

All of us in one you'll find, Brethren of a wondrous kind;
Yet among us all no brother
Knows one tittle of the other;
We in frequent councils are,
And our marks of things declare,
Where, to us unknown, a clerk
Sits, and takes them in the dark.
He's the register of all
In our ken, both great and small;
By us forms his laws and rules,
He's our master, we his tools;
Yet we can with greatest ease
Turn and wind him where we please.
One of us alone can sleep,
Yet no watch the rest will keep,
But the moment that he closes,
Every brother else reposes.
If wine's brought or victuals drest,
One enjoys them for the rest.
Pierce us all with wounding steel,
One for all of us will feel.
Though ten thousand cannons roar,
Add to them ten thousand more,
Yet but one of us is found
Who regards the dreadful sound.
Do what is not fit to tell,
There's but one of us can smell.
252

On Gold

On Gold

All-ruling tyrant of the earth,
To vilest slaves I owe my birth,
How is the greatest monarch blest,
When in my gaudy livery drest!
No haughty nymph has power to run
From me; or my embraces shun.
Stabb'd to the heart, condemn'd to flame,
My constancy is still the same.
The favourite messenger of Jove,
And Lemnian god, consulting strove
To make me glorious to the sight
Of mortals, and the gods' delight.
Soon would their altar's flame expire
If I refused to lend them fire.


By fate exalted high in place,
Lo, here I stand with double face:
Superior none on earth I find;
But see below me all mankind
Yet, as it oft attends the great,
I almost sink with my own weight.


At every motion undertook,
The vulgar all consult my look.
I sometimes give advice in writing,
But never of my own inditing.
I am a courtier in my way;
For those who raised me, I betray;
And some give out that I entice
To lust, to luxury, and dice.
Who punishments on me inflict,
Because they find their pockets pickt.
By riding post, I lose my health,
And only to get others wealth.
262

On Ink

On Ink

I am jet black, as you may see,
The son of pitch and gloomy night:
Yet all that know me will agree,
I'm dead except I live in light.


Sometimes in panegyric high,
Like lofty Pindar, I can soar;
And raise a virgin to the sky,
Or sink her to a pocky whore.


My blood this day is very sweet,
To-morrow of a bitter juice;
Like milk, 'tis cried about the street,
And so applied to different use.


Most wondrous is my magic power:
For with one colour I can paint;
I'll make the devil a saint this hour,
Next make a devil of a saint.


Through distant regions I can fly,
Provide me but with paper wings;
And fairly show a reason why
There should be quarrels among kings:


And, after all, you'll think it odd,
When learned doctors will dispute,
That I should point the word of God,
And show where they can best confute.


Let lawyers bawl and strain their throats:
'Tis I that must the lands convey,
And strip their clients to their coats;
Nay, give their very souls away.
284

On A Shadow In A Glass

On A Shadow In A Glass

By something form'd, I nothing am,
Yet everything that you can name;
In no place have I ever been,
Yet everywhere I may be seen;
In all things false, yet always true,
I'm still the same—but ever new.
Lifeless, life's perfect form I wear,
Can show a nose, eye, tongue, or ear,
Yet neither smell, see, taste, or hear.
All shapes and features I can boast,
No flesh, no bones, no blood—no ghost:
All colours, without paint, put on,
And change like the cameleon.
Swiftly I come, and enter there,
Where not a chink lets in the air;
Like thought, I'm in a moment gone,
Nor can I ever be alone:
All things on earth I imitate
Faster than nature can create;
Sometimes imperial robes I wear,
Anon in beggar's rags appear;
A giant now, and straight an elf,
I'm every one, but ne'er myself;
Ne'er sad I mourn, ne'er glad rejoice,
I move my lips, but want a voice;
I ne'er was born, nor e'er can die,
Then, pr'ythee, tell me what am I?


Most things by me do rise and fall,
And, as I please, they're great and small;
Invading foes without resistance,
With ease I make to keep their distance:
Again, as I'm disposed, the foe
Will come, though not a foot they go.
Both mountains, woods, and hills, and rocks
And gamesome goats, and fleecy flocks,
And lowing herds, and piping swains,
Come dancing to me o'er the plains.
The greatest whale that swims the sea
Does instantly my power obey.
In vain from me the sailor flies,
The quickest ship I can surprise,
And turn it as I have a mind,
And move it against tide and wind.
Nay, bring me here the tallest man,
I'll squeeze him to a little span;
Or bring a tender child, and pliant,
You'll see me stretch him to a giant:
Nor shall they in the least complain,
Because my magic gives no pain.
268

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Identification and basic context

Jonathan Swift was a preeminent satirist, essayist, and poet. He is primarily recognized for his allegorical works, most notably "Gulliver's Travels." Swift's writing often served as a vehicle for profound social and political critique, delivered with a characteristic blend of wit and cynicism.

Childhood and education

Born into a precarious family situation in Ireland, Swift's early life was marked by instability. He received a solid education, attending Trinity College, Dublin. This academic grounding provided him with the intellectual tools that would later inform his sharp critiques of society and politics. His intellectual development was influenced by the prevailing intellectual currents of his time, though he often forged his own distinctive path.

Literary trajectory

Swift's literary career began with political and religious pamphlets, quickly establishing his reputation for sharp prose and incisive commentary. His early works often dealt with contemporary Irish issues, demonstrating his deep engagement with the political landscape. Over time, his writing evolved to encompass broader philosophical and social themes, particularly evident in his later, more famous works. He was also involved in various literary circles and contributed to periodicals of his era.

Works, style, and literary characteristics

Swift's major works include "A Tale of a Tub," "The Battle of the Books," "An Argument Against Abolishing Christianity," and the monumental "Gulliver's Travels." His dominant themes often revolve around human nature's follies, the corrupting influence of power, religious hypocrisy, and the absurdities of societal conventions. He masterfully employed satire, irony, and allegory to expose these vices. His style is characterized by clarity, precision, and a deceptively simple prose that masks a deep intellectual complexity. Swift's language is often precise and persuasive, making his critiques all the more potent. He is considered a master of prose satire, and his innovations in form and narrative technique, particularly in "Gulliver's Travels," have had a lasting impact.

Cultural and historical context

Swift lived during a period of significant political and social upheaval in Britain and Ireland. His works directly engaged with the political controversies of his time, including the relationship between England and Ireland, religious disputes, and the nature of governance. He was a contemporary of other prominent writers and thinkers, and his work reflects the intellectual debates of the Augustan age. Swift's strong Protestant background and his experiences in Ireland deeply informed his perspective on politics and society. He was often aligned with the Whig party but was also critical of political corruption across the spectrum.

Personal life

Swift's personal life was marked by complex relationships, most notably with Esther Johnson (Stella) and Esther Vanhomrigh (Vanessa). These relationships are often seen as having profoundly influenced his writing, particularly in its exploration of love, loyalty, and betrayal. He maintained friendships with other literary figures of his day, though his often-acerbic personality could lead to rivalries. Swift served as Dean of St. Patrick's Cathedral in Dublin, a position that afforded him a degree of financial independence and a platform for his social and political views. His personal experiences with illness and the political climate in Ireland also shaped his outlook and his work.

Recognition and reception

Swift was widely recognized as a major literary figure during his lifetime, though his sharp critiques also generated controversy. "Gulliver's Travels," in particular, was an immediate success and has remained a cornerstone of English literature. His works have been subject to continuous critical analysis and debate, with scholars appreciating his mastery of satire and his profound insights into human nature. While celebrated for his literary achievements, his political stances and personal life have also been subjects of ongoing discussion.

Influences and legacy

Swift was influenced by earlier satirists and by the intellectual climate of his time. His own legacy is immense; he is considered one of the greatest satirists in the English language and has influenced countless writers across various genres. His works continue to be studied for their literary merit, their historical significance, and their enduring commentary on human society. "Gulliver's Travels" has been widely translated and adapted into various forms, solidifying its place in global literary culture.

Interpretation and critical analysis

Swift's work invites multiple interpretations, often centered on his critique of human reason, vanity, and the corrupting nature of power. "Gulliver's Travels," for instance, can be read as a profound examination of the human condition, a political allegory, or a savage indictment of Enlightenment optimism. Debates have often centered on the extent of Swift's misanthropy or his genuine concern for humanity's betterment.

Curiosities and lesser-known aspects

Despite his public persona, Swift was known for his deep affection for his friends, particularly Stella. He was also a dedicated philanthropist, leaving a significant portion of his estate to charitable causes, including the founding of a hospital for the mentally ill. His habits of writing were often meticulous, and his correspondence reveals a keen intellect and a dry sense of humor. Anecdotes suggest a complex personality, capable of both great wit and profound melancholy.

Death and memory

Jonathan Swift died in Dublin. His death was mourned by many, and his literary reputation only grew in the years that followed. His will established foundations for charitable works, ensuring a lasting impact beyond his literary achievements. His memory is preserved through his enduring works and his status as a titan of English literature.