To the Dean of St. Patrick's
Dear Dean, I'm in a sad condition,I cannot see to read or write;Pity the darkness of thy Priscian,Whose days are all transform'd to night.
My head, though light, 's a dungeon grown,The windows of my soul are closed;Therefore to sleep I lay me down,My verse and I are both composed.
Sleep, did I say? that cannot be;For who can sleep, that wants his eyes?My bed is useless then to me,Therefore I lay me down to rise.
Unnumber'd thoughts pass to and froUpon the surface of my brain;In various maze they come and go,And come and go again.
So have you seen in sheet burnt black,The fiery sparks at random run;Now here, now there, some turning backSome ending where they just begun.
Words in this poem
- dungeon n.
- A close, dark prison, commondonjon or keep of a castle, these being used as prisons. [OE. donjoun highest tower of a castle, tower, prison, F. donjon tower or platform in the midst of a castle, turret, or closet on the top of a house, a keep of a]
- maze n.
- A wild fancy; a confused notion. [OE. mase; cf. OE. masen to confuse, puzzle, Norweg. masast to fall into a slumber, masa to be continually busy, prate, chatter, Icel. masa to chatter, dial. Sw.]
Definitions and etymologies from Webster's Unabridged Dictionary, 1913.
About this text
To the Dean of St. Patrick's 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, To the Dean of St. Patrick's, in Poems, Volume II (1710–1745), text of Project Gutenberg ebook #13621, Laurel, https://laurelpoetry.com/poem/swift-poems/to-the-dean-of-st-patrick-s-3.html, id L18551.
Form and metre
To the Dean of St. Patrick's is 20 lines in 5 stanzas of 4 lines each. The rhyme scheme is ABAB, complete in 4 of its 5 stanzas. The metre is iambic tetrameter, measured from the stress the words themselves fix (confidence 91%). 98% of its stressed syllables fall where the metre puts the beat. The lines average 8.1 syllables. 1 line ends on an unstressed syllable, a feminine ending. 10% 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 ABAB conditionA · writeB · priscianA · nightB
- 2 -A-A grown · closedA · down · composedA
- 3 ABAB beA · eyesB · meA · riseB
- 4 ABAB froA · brainB · goA · againB
- 5 ABAB blackA · runB · backA · begunB
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 |
|---|---|---|
| Dear Dean, I'm in a sad condition, | 9 | ······˘/˘ |
| I cannot see to read or write; | 8 | ·/˘····· |
| Pity the darkness of thy Priscian, | 9 | /˘·/˘···· |
| Whose days are all transform'd to night. | 8 | ····˘/·· |
| My head, though light, 's a dungeon grown, | 9 | ······/˘· |
| The windows of my soul are closed; | 8 | ·/˘····· |
| Therefore to sleep I lay me down, | 8 | ········ |
| My verse and I are both composed. | 8 | ······˘/ |
| Sleep, did I say? that cannot be; | 8 | ·····/˘· |
| For who can sleep, that wants his eyes? | 8 | ········ |
| My bed is useless then to me, | 8 | ···/˘··· |
| Therefore I lay me down to rise. | 8 | ········ |
| Unnumber'd thoughts pass to and fro | 8 | ········ |
| Upon the surface of my brain; | 8 | ···/˘··· |
| In various maze they come and go, | 8 | ·/˘····· |
| And come and go again. | 6 | ····˘/ |
| So have you seen in sheet burnt black, | 8 | ········ |
| The fiery sparks at random run; | 8 | ·/˘··/˘· |
| Now here, now there, some turning back | 8 | ·····/˘· |
| Some ending where they just begun. | 8 | ·/˘···˘/ |
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.