A Maypole Poem by Jonathan Swift
A Maypole
Deprived of root, and branch and rind,
Yet flowers I bear of every kind:
And such is my prolific power,
They bloom in less than half an hour;
Yet standers-by may plainly see
They get no nourishment from me.
My head with giddiness goes round,
And yet I firmly stand my ground:
All over naked I am seen,
And painted like an Indian queen.
No couple-beggar in the land
E'er joined such numbers hand in hand.
I joined them fairly with a ring;
Nor can our parson blame the thing.
And though no marriage words are spoke,
They part not till the ring is broke;
Yet hypocrite fanatics cry,
I'm but an idol raised on high;
And once a weaver in our town,
A damned Cromwellian, knocked me down.
I lay a prisoner twenty years,
And then the jovial cavaliers
To their old post restored all three -
I mean the church, the king, and me.
Deprived of root, and branch and rind, Yet flowers I bear of every kind: And such is my prolific power, They bloom in less than half an hour. beautiful. tony
Edifying and captivating rhyming diction by Mr Swift. Superbly constructed and delivered. A worthy poem of the day.
I completely agree with your excellent comments...a wonderfully incisive poem about dour Puritanism methinks.
Love the poetic language of yours. Beautifully constructed. A nice choice of the Poemhunter.com and mine too! Thanks for sharing.
I lay a prisoner twenty years, And then the jovial cavaliers To their old post restored all three - I mean the church, the king, and me.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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12/2/2024 2:38:26 PM # 1.0.0
May plainly see! ! Thanks for sharing this poem with us.