Answer to Dr. Sheridan's Prologue, and to Dr. Swift's Epilogue. In Behalf of the Distressed Weavers. By Dr. Delany
The Muses, whom the richest silks array,Refuse to fling their shining gowns away;The pencil clothes the nine in bright brocades,And gives each colour to the pictured maids;Far above mortal dress the sisters shine,Pride in their Indian Robes, and must be fine.And shall two bards in concert rhyme, and huffAnd fret these Muses with their playhouse stuff?The player in mimic piety may storm,Deplore the Comb, and bid her heroes arm:The arbitrary mob, in paltry rage,May curse the belles and chintzes of the age:Yet still the artist worm her silk shall share,And spin her thread of life in service of the fair.The cotton plant, whom satire cannot blast,Shall bloom the favourite of these realms, and last;Like yours, ye fair, her fame from censure grows,Prevails in charms, and glares above her foes:Your injured plant shall meet a loud defence,And be the emblem of your innocence.Some bard, perhaps, whose landlord was a weaver,Penn'd the low prologue to return a favour:Some neighbour wit, that would be in the vogue,Work'd with his friend, and wove the epilogue.Who weaves the chaplet, or provides the bays,For such wool-gathering sonnetteers as these?Hence, then, ye homespun witlings, that persuadeMiss Chloe to the fashion of her maid.Shall the wide hoop, that standard of the town,Thus act subservient to a poplin gown?Who'd smell of wool all over? 'Tis enoughThe under petticoat be made of stuff.Lord! to be wrapt in flannel just in May,When the fields dress'd in flowers appear so gay!And shall not miss be flower'd as well as they?In what weak colours would the plaid appear,Work'd to a quilt, or studded in a chair!The skin, that vies with silk, would fret with stuff;Or who could bear in bed a thing so rough?Ye knowing fair, how eminent that bed,Where the chintz diamonds with the silken thread,Where rustling curtains call the curious eye,And boast the streaks and paintings of the sky!Of flocks they'd have your milky ticking full:And all this for the benefit of wool!"But where," say they, "shall we bestow these weavers,That spread our streets, and are such piteous cravers?"The silk-worms (brittle beings!) prone to fate,Demand their care, to make their webs complete:These may they tend, their promises receive;We cannot pay too much for what they give!
Words in this poem 17
- pictured a.
- Furnished with pictures; represented by a picture or pictures; as, a pictured scene.
- shall v. i.
- To owe; to be under obligation for. [OE. shal, schal, imp. sholde, scholde, AS. scal, sceal, I am obliged, imp. scolde, sceolde, inf. sculan; akin to OS. skulan, pres. skal, imp. skolda, D. zullen,]
- huff v. t.
- To swell; to enlarge; to puff up; as, huffed up with air. Grew. [Cf. OE. hoove to puff up, blow; prob. of imitative origin.]
- playhouse n.
- A building used for dramatic exhibitions; a theater. [AS. pleghus.]
- deplore v. t.
- To feel or to express deep and poignant grief for; to bewail; to lament; to mourn; to sorrow over. [L. deplorare; de- + plorare to cry out, wail, lament; prob. akin to pluere to rain, and to E. flow: cf. F. déplorer. Cf. Flow.]
- artist n.
- One who practices some mechanic art or craft; an artisan. [F. artiste, LL. artista, fr. L. ars. See Art, n., and cf. Artiste.]
- defence n.
- The act of defending, or the state of being defended; protection, as from violence or danger. [F. défense, OF. defense, fem., defens, masc., fr. L. defensa (cf. Fence.]
- favour n.
- Kind regard; propitious aspect; countenance; friendly disposition; kindness; good will. [Written also favour.]
- neighbour v. i.
- To dwell in the vicinity; to be a neighbor, or in the neighborhood; to be near.
- vogue n.
- The way or fashion of people at any particular time; temporary mode, custom, or practice; popular reception for the time; -- used now generally in the phrase in vogue. [F. vogue a rowing, vogue, fashion, It. voga, fr. vogare to row, to sail; probably fr. OHG. wag to move, akin to E. way. Cf. Way.]
- wove
- p. pr. & rare vb. n. of Weave.
- chaplet n.
- A garland or wreath to be worn on the head. [F. chapelet, dim. of OF. chapel hat, garland, dim. fr. LL. cappa. See Cap, and cf. Chapelet, Chapeau.]
- homespun a.
- Spun or wrought at home; of domestic manufacture; coarse; plain.
- poplin n.
- A fabric of many varieties, usually made of silk and worsted, - - used especially for women's dresses. Irish poplin, a fabric with silk warp and worsted weft, made in Ireland. [F. popeline, papeline.]
- chintz n.
- Cotton cloth, printed with flowers and other devices, in a number of different colors, and often glazed. [Hindi chint spotted cotton clooth, chinta spot.]
- curious a.
- Difficult to please or satisfy; solicitous to be correct; careful; scrupulous; nice; exact. [OF. curios, curius, F. curieux, L. curiosus careful, inquisitive, fr. cura care. See Cure.]
- ticking n.
- A strong, closely woven linen or cotton fabric, of which ticks for beds are made. It is usually twilled, and woven in stripes of different colors, as white and blue; -- called also ticken. [From Tick a bed cover. Cf. Ticken.]
Definitions and etymologies from Webster's Unabridged Dictionary, 1913.
About this text
Answer to Dr. Sheridan's Prologue, and to Dr. Swift's Epilogue. In Behalf of the Distressed Weavers. By Dr. Delany is in the public domain. This text is taken from The Poems of Jonathan Swift, D.D., Volume 1, Project Gutenberg ebook #14353; the transcription's header, footer and licence were removed and nothing else was changed. You may copy, print and reuse it freely.
Cite as: Jonathan Swift, Answer to Dr. Sheridan's Prologue, and to Dr. Swift's Epilogue. In Behalf of the Distressed Weavers. By Dr. Delany, in On Poetry: A Rhapsody, and Other Poems (1727), text of Project Gutenberg ebook #14353, Laurel, https://laurelpoetry.com/poem/swift-poems-vol1/answer-to-dr-sheridan-s-prologue-and-to-dr-swift-s-epilogue-in-behalf-of-the-distressed-weavers-by-dr-delany.html, id L25608.
Form and metre
Answer to Dr. Sheridan's Prologue, and to Dr. Swift's Epilogue. In Behalf of the Distressed Weavers. By Dr. Delany is 51 lines in a single stanza. It is in rhyming couplets, 51% of the lines: heroic couplets. The metre is iambic pentameter, measured from the stress the words themselves fix (confidence 89%).
See other poems in heroic couplets, other poems in iambic pentameter.
Measured by Laurel's pipeline, not copied from a handbook: how stress and metre are counted, how rhyme is lettered, how a drifted rhyme is found. Where the dictionary cannot confirm a rhyme the letter is withheld, not guessed.
Rhyme words, stanza by stanza
The word that ends each line, lettered by the rhyme it makes; a dash is a line whose rhyme the dictionary could not confirm.
- 1 AABBCCDD--EEFFGGHHII------JJKKLLMMMNNOOPPQQRR------ arrayA · awayA · brocadesB · maidsB · shineC · fineC · huffD · stuffD · storm · arm · rageE · ageE · shareF · fairF · blastG · lastG · growsH · foesH · defenceI · innocenceI · weaver · favour · vogue · epilogue · bays · these · persuadeJ · maidJ · townK · gownK · enoughL · stuffL · mayM · gayM · theyM · appearN · chairN · stuffO · roughO · bedP · threadP · eyeQ · skyQ · fullR · woolR · weavers · cravers · fate · complete · receive · give
Scansion, line by line
Each line with its syllable count and the stresses the words themselves fix: / stressed, ˘ unstressed, · a syllable the word leaves free and the metre decides. Read against iambic pentameter. How this is done.
| Line | Syl. | Stress |
|---|---|---|
| The Muses, whom the richest silks array, | 10 | ·/˘··/˘·˘/ |
| Refuse to fling their shining gowns away; | 10 | ˘/···/˘·˘/ |
| The pencil clothes the nine in bright brocades, | 10 | ·/˘·····˘/ |
| And gives each colour to the pictured maids; | 10 | ···/˘··/˘· |
| Far above mortal dress the sisters shine, | 10 | ···/˘··/˘· |
| Pride in their Indian Robes, and must be fine. | 10 | ···/˘····· |
| And shall two bards in concert rhyme, and huff | 10 | ·····/˘··· |
| And fret these Muses with their playhouse stuff? | 10 | ···/˘··/·· |
| The player in mimic piety may storm, | 10 | ·/˘·/˘/˘·· |
| Deplore the Comb, and bid her heroes arm: | 10 | ˘/·····/˘· |
| The arbitrary mob, in paltry rage, | 10 | ·/˘·˘··/˘· |
| May curse the belles and chintzes of the age: | 10 | ·········· |
| Yet still the artist worm her silk shall share, | 10 | ···/˘····· |
| And spin her thread of life in service of the fair. | 12 | ·······/˘··· |
| The cotton plant, whom satire cannot blast, | 10 | ·/˘··/˘/˘· |
| Shall bloom the favourite of these realms, and last; | 11 | ··········· |
| Like yours, ye fair, her fame from censure grows, | 10 | ·······/˘· |
| Prevails in charms, and glares above her foes: | 10 | ˘/········ |
| Your injured plant shall meet a loud defence, | 10 | ·/˘·····˘/ |
| And be the emblem of your innocence. | 10 | ···/˘··/˘˘ |
| Some bard, perhaps, whose landlord was a weaver, | 11 | ··˘/·/···/˘ |
| Penn'd the low prologue to return a favour: | 11 | ···/˘·˘/·/˘ |
| Some neighbour wit, that would be in the vogue, | 10 | ·/˘······· |
| Work'd with his friend, and wove the epilogue. | 10 | ·······/˘· |
| Who weaves the chaplet, or provides the bays, | 10 | ···/˘·˘/·· |
| For such wool-gathering sonnetteers as these? | 10 | ···/˘····· |
| Hence, then, ye homespun witlings, that persuade | 10 | ···/····˘/ |
| Miss Chloe to the fashion of her maid. | 10 | ·/˘··/˘··· |
| Shall the wide hoop, that standard of the town, | 10 | ·····/˘··· |
| Thus act subservient to a poplin gown? | 10 | ··˘/˘··/˘· |
| Who'd smell of wool all over? 'Tis enough | 10 | ········˘/ |
| The under petticoat be made of stuff. | 10 | ···/˘····· |
| Lord! to be wrapt in flannel just in May, | 10 | ·····/˘··· |
| When the fields dress'd in flowers appear so gay! | 10 | ·····/˘/·· |
| And shall not miss be flower'd as well as they? | 10 | ·····/···· |
| In what weak colours would the plaid appear, | 10 | ···/˘···˘/ |
| Work'd to a quilt, or studded in a chair! | 10 | ·····/˘··· |
| The skin, that vies with silk, would fret with stuff; | 10 | ·········· |
| Or who could bear in bed a thing so rough? | 10 | ·········· |
| Ye knowing fair, how eminent that bed, | 10 | ·/˘··/˘˘·· |
| Where the chintz diamonds with the silken thread, | 10 | ···/˘··/˘· |
| Where rustling curtains call the curious eye, | 10 | ·/˘/˘··/˘· |
| And boast the streaks and paintings of the sky! | 10 | ·····/˘··· |
| Of flocks they'd have your milky ticking full: | 10 | ·····/˘/˘· |
| And all this for the benefit of wool! | 10 | ·····/˘˘·· |
| "But where," say they, "shall we bestow these weavers, | 11 | ······˘/·/˘ |
| That spread our streets, and are such piteous cravers?" | 12 | ··/····/˘˘/˘ |
| The silk-worms (brittle beings!) prone to fate, | 10 | ···/˘/˘··· |
| Demand their care, to make their webs complete: | 10 | ˘/······˘/ |
| These may they tend, their promises receive; | 10 | ·····/˘˘˘/ |
| We cannot pay too much for what they give! | 10 | ·/˘······· |
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