Another Rejoinder by the Dean, in Jackson's Name
Three days for answer I have waited,I thought an ace you'd ne'er have batedAnd art thou forced to yield, ill-fatedpoetaster?
Henceforth acknowledge, that a noseOf thy dimension's fit for prose;But every one that knows Dan, knowsthy master.
Blush for ill spelling, for ill lines,And fly with hurry to Rathmines;Thy fame, thy genius, now declines,proud boaster.
I hear with some concern your roarAnd flying think to quit the score,By clapping billets on your doorand posts, sir.
Thy ruin, Tom, I never meant,I'm grieved to hear your banishment,But pleased to find you do relentand cry on.
I maul'd you, when you look'd so bluff,But now I'll secret keep your stuff;For know, prostration is enoughto th' lion.
Words in this poem
- bated a.
- Reduced; lowered; restrained; as, to speak with bated breath.
- poetaster n.
- An inferior rhymer, or writer of verses; a dabbler in poetic art.
- henceforth adv.
- From this time forward; henceforward.
- relent v. i.
- To become less rigid or hard; to yield; to dissolve; to melt; to deliquesce. [F. ralentir, fr. L. pref. re- re- + ad to + lentus pliant, flexible, slow. See Lithe.]
- bluff a.
- Having a broad, flattened front; as, the bluff bows of a ship. [Cf. OD. blaf flat, broad, blaffaert one with a broad face, also, a boaster; or G. verblüffen to confuse, LG. bluffen to frighten; to unknown origin.]
Definitions and etymologies from Webster's Unabridged Dictionary, 1913.
About this text
Another Rejoinder by the Dean, in Jackson's Name is in the public domain. This text is taken from The Poems of Jonathan Swift, D.D., Volume 2, Project Gutenberg ebook #13621; 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, Another Rejoinder by the Dean, in Jackson's Name, in Cadenus and Vanessa, and Other Poems (1710–1745), text of Project Gutenberg ebook #13621, Laurel, https://laurelpoetry.com/poem/swift-poems/another-rejoinder-by-the-dean-in-jackson-s-name.html, id L09412.
Form and metre
Another Rejoinder by the Dean, in Jackson's Name is 24 lines in 6 stanzas of 4 lines each. The metre is iambic tetrameter, measured from the stress the words themselves fix (confidence 92%). 96% of its stressed syllables fall where the metre puts the beat. The lines average 6.9 syllables. 8 lines end on an unstressed syllable, a feminine ending. 33% of the lines run on without a stop at the line end.
See other poems in iambic tetrameter.
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 AAA- waitedA · batedA · fatedA · poetaster
- 2 AAA- noseA · proseA · knowsA · master
- 3 A-A- linesA · rathmines · declinesA · boaster
- 4 AAA- roarA · scoreA · doorA · sir
- 5 AAA- meantA · banishmentA · relentA · on
- 6 AAA- bluffA · stuffA · enoughA · lion
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 tetrameter. How this is done.
| Line | Syl. | Stress |
|---|---|---|
| Three days for answer I have waited, | 9 | ···/˘··/˘ |
| I thought an ace you'd ne'er have bated | 9 | ·······/˘ |
| And art thou forced to yield, ill-fated | 9 | ·······/˘ |
| poetaster? | 3 | /˘˘ |
| Henceforth acknowledge, that a nose | 8 | //˘/˘··· |
| Of thy dimension's fit for prose; | 8 | ··˘/˘··· |
| But every one that knows Dan, knows | 8 | ·/˘····· |
| thy master. | 3 | ·/˘ |
| Blush for ill spelling, for ill lines, | 8 | ···/˘··· |
| And fly with hurry to Rathmines; | 8 | ···/˘··· |
| Thy fame, thy genius, now declines, | 8 | ···/˘·˘/ |
| proud boaster. | 3 | ·/˘ |
| I hear with some concern your roar | 8 | ····˘/·· |
| And flying think to quit the score, | 8 | ·/˘····· |
| By clapping billets on your door | 8 | ·/˘/˘··· |
| and posts, sir. | 3 | ··· |
| Thy ruin, Tom, I never meant, | 8 | ·/˘··/˘· |
| I'm grieved to hear your banishment, | 8 | ·····/˘˘ |
| But pleased to find you do relent | 8 | ······˘/ |
| and cry on. | 3 | ··· |
| I maul'd you, when you look'd so bluff, | 8 | ········ |
| But now I'll secret keep your stuff; | 8 | ···/˘··· |
| For know, prostration is enough | 8 | ··˘/˘·˘/ |
| to th' lion. | 3 | ·/˘ |
Notes from the edition 1
The notes to the Poems of Jonathan Swift, Volume II (Project Gutenberg #13621).
- Stanza 3, line 2 A village near Dublin.--F.
The reader shows the same poem with its rhymes coloured and a stress row above each line, the notes beside their stanzas, and any word's definition on a tap; the analysis page takes the whole book apart. How every part of this site was made.