Not that I know his reverence was ever concern'd to my knowledge,

Though you and your come-rogues keep him out so late in your college.

You say you will eat grass on his grave: a christian

eat grass

!

Whereby you now confess yourself to be a goose

or an ass:

But that's as much as to say, that my master should die before ye;

Well, well, that's as God pleases; and I don't believe that's a true story:

And so say I told you so, and you may go tell my master; what care I?

And I dont care who knows it; 'tis all one to Mary. Every body knows that I love to tell truth, and shame the devil;

I am but a poor servant; but I think gentlefolks

Besides

should be civil.

you found fault with our victuals one day that you was here;

I remember it was on a Tuesday of all days in the

year.

And Saunders the man says you are always jesting and mocking:

Mary, said he, (one day as I was mending my master's stocking;)

My master is so fond of that minister that keeps the school

I thought my master a wise man, but that man makes him a fool.

Saunders, said I, I would rather than a quart of ale He would come into our kitchen, and I would pin a dishclout to his tail

VOL. XVI.

Y

And

And now I must go, and get Saunders to direct this letter;

For I write but a bad scrawl; but my sister Marget, she writes better.

Well, but I must run and make the bed, before my master comes from prayers;

And see now, it strikes ten, and I hear him coming up stairs;

Whereof I could say more to your verses, if I could write written hand :

And so I remain, in a civil way, your servant to command,

MARY.

A NEW-YEAR'S GIFT FOR BEC.

1723-4.

RETURNING Janus now prepares,
For Bec, a new supply of cares,
Sent in a bag to Dr. Swift,

1

Who thus displays the New-year's gift.
First, this large parcel brings you tidings
Of our good Dean's eternal chidings;
Of Nelly's pertness, Robin's leasings,
And Sheridan's perpetual teazings.
This box is cramm'd on every side
With Stella's magisterial pride.
Behold a cage with sparrows fill'd,
First to be fondled, then be kill'd.
Now to this hamper I invite you,
With six imagin'd cares to fright you.

• Mrs. Rebecca Dingley, Stella's friend and companion. F.

Нете

Here in this bundle Janus sends

Concerns by thousands for your friends:
And here's a pair of leathern pokes,
To hold you cares for other folks.
Here from this barrel you may broach
A peck of troubles for a coach.

This ball of wax your ears will darken,
Still to be curious, never hearken.
Lest you the town may have less trouble in,
Bring all your Quilca's * cares to Dublin,
For which he sends this empty sack;
And so take all upon your back.

DINGLEY AND BRENT. †

A SONG

To the tune of, "Ye Commons and Peers."

DINGLEY and Brent,

Wherever they went,

Ne'er minded a word that was spoken;
Whatever was said,

They ne'er troubled their head,

But laugh'd at their own silly joking.

* Country house of Dr. Sheridan. F.

+ Dr. Swift's housekeeper. F.

Y 2

Should

Should Solomon wise

In majesty rise,

And show them his wit and his learning;
They never would hear,

But turn the deaf ear,

As a matter they had no concern in.

You tell a good jest,

And please all the rest;
Comes Dingley, and asks you, what was it?
And, curious to know,

Away she will go

To seek an old rag in the closet.

TO STELLA.

WRITTEN ON THE DAY OF HER BIRTH, MARCH 13, 1723 4.

BUT NOT ON THE SUBJECT,

WHEN I WAS SICK IN BED.

TORMENTED with incessant pains,
Can I devise poetic strains?
Time was, when I could yearly pay
My verse on Stella's native day :
But now, unable grown to write,
I grieve she ever saw the light.
Ungrateful! since to her I owe
That I these pains can undergo.
She tends me like an humble slave;
And, when indecently I rave,

When

When out my brutish passions break,
With gall in every word I speak,

She, with soft speech, my anguish cheers,
Or melts my pasions down with tears:
Although 'tis easy to descry

She wants assistance more than I;
Yet seems to feel my pains alone,
And is a stoic in her own.

When, among scholars, can we find
So soft, and yet so firm a mind?
All accidents of life conspire

To raise up Stella's virtue higher;
Or else to introduce the rest

Which had been latent in her breast.

Her firmness who could e'er have known, Had she not evils of her own?

Her kindness who could ever guess,”
Had not her friends been in distress?..
Whatever base returns you find

From me, dear Stella, still be kind.
In your own heart you'll reap the fruit,
Though I continue still a brute.
But, when I once am out of pain,
I promise to be good again:
Meantime, your other juster friends
Shall for my follies make amends:
So may we long continue thus,
Admiring you, you pitying us.