A Man of Rhimes
Recently a genuine critical interest has emerged for Swift’s poetry. In the 19th
century, unlike his prose his verse was sadly neglected. Swift’s own words on the
subject are some sort of justification.
In POPE I cannot
read a line
But with a sigh, I wish it mine
When he can in one couplet Fix
More Sense than I can do in Six
It gives me such a jealous Fit,
I cry, Pox take him, and his Wit
In a casual correspondence
Swift confessed "I have been only a man of rhimes, and that upon trifles, never
having written serious couplets in my life; yet never without a moral view."
In Verses on the Death of Dr.
Swift, he exposed the discrepancy between genuine and feigned affection and so, even his
real friends are subjected to criticism.
In POPE, I cannot
read a line
But with a Sigh, I wist it mine….
Why must I be outdone by GAY
In my own humours biting Way ?
ARBUTHNOT is no more
my Friend,
Who dares to Irony pretend;
Which I was born to introduce
Refind it First, and shew’d its Use.
Here the irony has been
turned to praise. Further, he points out his only friends who will regret his passing
away.
 Poor POPE will grieve a Month;
and GAY A WEEK;
and ARBUTHNOT a Day.
But the duration of
mourning is not important and one should emphasize on the attitude of the remainder of
mankind.
The rest will give a
shrug and cry
I’m sorry; but we all must dye
Indifference clad in wisdom’s Guise,
All Fortitude of Mind supplies
For how can stony Bowels melt,
In those who never Pity felt….
His prediction of the
reaction to his death, undercutting his own significance is best seen here.
My female Friends,
whose tender Hearts
Have better learned to set their parts.
Receive the News ‘in doleful Dumps’
‘The Dean is dead’ (and what is Trumps?)
Then, Lord have mercy on his soul !.
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