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Classic and Contemporary Poetry

THE TRUE-BORN ENGLISHMAN: INTRODUCTION by DANIEL DEFOE

Poet Analysis

First Line: SPEAK, SATYR; FOR THERE'S NONE CAN TELL LIKE THEE
Last Line: SPEAK, SATYR, FOR THERE'S NONE LIKE THEE CAN TELL.
SPeak, @3Satyr@1; for there's none can tell like thee,
Whether 'tis Folly, Pride, or Knavery,
That makes this discontented Land appear
Less happy now in Times of Peace, than War:
Why Civil Feuds disturb the Nation more
Than all our Bloody Wars have done before.

Fools out of Favour grudge at Knaves in Place,
@3And men are always honest in Disgrace:@1
The Court-Preferments make men Knaves in course:
But they which wou'd be in them wou'd be worse.
'Tis not at Foreigners that we repine,
Wou'd Foreigners their Perquisites resign:
The Grand Contention's plainly to be seen,
To get some men put out, and some put in.
For this our S . . . . . rs make long Harangues,
And florid M . . . . . rs whet their polish'd Tongues.
@3Statesmen are always sick of one Disease;
And a good Pension gives them present Ease.@1
That's the Specifick makes them all content
With any King, and any Government.
Good Patriots at Court-Abuses rail,
And all the Nation's Grievances bewail:
But when the @3Sov'reign Balsam@1's once appli'd,
The Zealot never fails to change his Side.
And when he must the @3Golden Key@1 resign,
The @3Railing Spirit@1 comes about again.

@3Who shall this Bubbl'd Nation disabuse@1,
While they their own Felicities refuse?
Who at the Wars have made such mighty Pother,
And now are falling out with one another:
With needless Fears the Jealous Nation fill,
@3And always have been sav'd against their Will:@1
Who Fifty Millions @3Sterling@1 have disburs'd,
To be with Peace and too much Plenty curs'd.
Who their Old Monarch eagerly undo,
And yet uneasily obey the New.
Search, @3Satyr@1, search, a deep Incision make;
The Poyson's strong, the Antidote's too weak.
'Tis pointed Truth must manage this Dispute,
And down-right English @3Englishmen@1 confute.

Whet thy just Anger at the Nation's Pride;
And with keen Phrase repel the Vicious Tide.
To @3Englishmen@1 their own beginnings show,
@3And ask them why they slight their Neighbours so@1.
Go back to Elder Times, and Ages past,
And Nations into long Oblivion cast;
To Old @3Britannia@1's Youthful Days retire,
And there for @3True-Born Englishmen@1 enquire.
@3Britannia@1 freely will disown the Name,
And hardly knows her self from whence they came:
Wonders that They of all men shou'd pretend
To @3Birth@1 and @3Blood@1, and for a Name contend.
Go back to Causes where our Follies dwell,
And fetch the dark Original from Hell:
Speak, @3Satyr@1, for there's none like thee can tell.



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