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Classic and Contemporary Poetry
STELLA'S BIRTHDAY, 1725, by JONATHAN SWIFT Recitation Poet's Biography First Line: As, when a beauteous nymph decays Last Line: To make me deaf and mend my sight. Subject(s): Birthdays; Johnson, Esther (1681-1728) | |||
As, when a beauteous nymph decays, We say, she's past her dancing days; So poets lose their feet by time, And can no longer dance in rhyme. Your annual bard had rather chose To celebrate your birth in prose; Yet merry folks, who want by chance A pair to make a country dance, Call the old housekeeper, and get her To fill a place, for want of better; While Sheridan is off the hooks, And friend Delany at his books, That Stella may avoid disgrace, Once more the Dean supplies their place. Beauty and wit, too sad a truth! Have always been confined to youth; The god of wit, and beauty's queen, He twenty-one, and she fifteen. No poet ever sweetly sung, Unless he were, like Phoebus, young; Nor ever nymph inspired to rhyme, Unless, like Venus, in her prime, At fifty-six, if this be true, Am I a poet fit for you? Or, at the age of forty-three, Are you a subject fit for me? Adiey! bright wit, and radiant eyes, You must be grave, and I be wise. Our fate in vain we would oppose; But I'll be still your friend in prose; Esteem and friendship to express, Will not require poetic dress; And, if the Muse deny her aid To have them sung, they may be said, But, Stella, say, what evil tongue Reports you are no longer young; That Time sits, with his scythe to mow Where erst sat Cupid with his bow; That half your locks are turned to grey? I'll ne'er believe a word they say. 'Tis true, but let it not be known, My eves are somewhat dimmish grown: For Nature, always in the right, To your decay adapts my sight; And wrinkles undistinguished pass, For I'm ashamed to use a glass; And till I see them with these eyes, Whoever says you have them, lies. No length of time can make you quit Honour and virtue, sense and wit; Thus you may still be young to me, While I can better hear than see. O ne'er may Fortune show her spite, To make me deaf and mend my sight. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...STELLA'S BIRTHDAY, 1720 by JONATHAN SWIFT STELLA'S BIRTHDAY, 1726-7 by JONATHAN SWIFT STELLA'S BIRTHDAY, 1723 by JONATHAN SWIFT A BEAUTIFUL YOUNG NYMPH GOING TO BED by JONATHAN SWIFT A DESCRIPTION OF A CITY SHOWER by JONATHAN SWIFT A DESCRIPTION OF THE MORNING by JONATHAN SWIFT A GENTLE ECHO ON WOMAN (IN THE DORIC MANNER) by JONATHAN SWIFT A SATIRICAL ELEGY ON THE DEATH OF A LATE FAMOUS GENERAL by JONATHAN SWIFT AN EPIGRAM ON SCOLDING by JONATHAN SWIFT CLEVER TOM CLINCH GOING TO BE HANGED by JONATHAN SWIFT |
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