I mean when Tiger* has been serv'd,
Or else poor Stella may be starv'd.
May Bec have many an evening nap,
With Tiger slabbering in her lap;
But always take a special care
She does not overset the chair;
Still be she curious, never hearken.
To any speech but Tiger's barking!
And when she's in another scene,
Stella long dead, but first the Dean,
May fortune and her coffee get her
Companions that will please her better!
Whole afternoons will sit beside her,
Nor for neglects or blunders chide her.
A goodly set as can be found
Of hearty gossips prating round;
Fresh from a wedding or a christening,
To teach her ears the art of listening,
And please her more to hear them tattle,
Than the dean storm, or Stella rattle.
Late be her death, one gentle nod
When Hermes, waiting with his rod,
Shall to Elysian fields invite her,
Where there shall be no cares to fright her!
PRAY steal me not; I'm Mrs. Dingley's,
Whose heart in this four-footed thing lies.
*Mrs. Dingley's favourite lap dog. N.
SEVERAL OF THEM WRITTEN IN 1726,
11. ON A WINDOW AT AN INN.
WE fly from luxury and wealth,
To hardships in pursuit of health;
From generous wines and costly fare,
And dozing in an easy chair;
Pursue the goddess Health in vain,
To find her in a country scene,
And every where her footsteps trace, i
And see her marks in every face;
And still her favourites we meet,
Crowding the roads with naked feet.
But, oh! so faintly we pursue,
We ne'er can have her full in view.
11. AT AN INN IN ENGLAND.
THE glass, by lovers' nonsense blurr'd, Dims and obscures our sight:
So when our passions Love has stirr'd, It darkens Reason's light.
III. ON A WINDOW AT THE FOUR CROSSES IN THE WATLING STREET ROAD,
FOOL, to put up four Crosses at your door,
Put up your Wife, she's CROSSER than all four.
THE church and clergy here, no doubt,
Are very near akin; { (FT
Both weatherbeaten are without;
And empty both within.
My landlord is civil,
But dear as the d-1:
Your pockets grow empty
With nothing to tempt ye:
The wine is so sour,
Twill give you ascour:
The beer and the ale
Are mingled with stale.
The veal is such carrion,
A dog would be weary on,
All this I have felt,
For I live on a smelt.
THE walls of this town
Are full of renown,
And strangers delight to walk round 'em :
But as for the dwellers,
Both buyers and sellers,
For me, you may hang 'em, or drown 'em.
VII. ANOTHER, AT HOLYHEAD.
ONEPTUNE! Neptune! must I still
Be here detain'd against my will?
Is this your justice, when I'm come
Above two hundred miles from home;
O'er mountains steep, o'er dusty plains,
Half chok'd with dust, half drown'd with rains;
Only your Godship to implore,
To let me kiss your other shore?
A boon so small! but I may weep,
While you're like Baal, fast asleep.
ANOTHER, WRITTEN UPON A WINDOW
WHERE THERE WAS NO WRITING BEFORE.
THANKS to my stars, I once can see
A window here from scribbling free!
*The e verses are signed J-K-; but written, as it is presumed, in Dr. Swift's hand. D. S.
Here no conceited coxcombs pass,
To scratch their paltry drabs on glass;
Nor party-fool is calling names,
Or dealing crowns to George and James.
ON SEEING VERSES WRITTEN UPON WINDOWS
sage, who said he should be proud
Of windows in his breast,
Because he ne'er a thought allow'd
That might not be confest;
His window scrawl'd by every rake,
His breast again would cover;
And fairly bid the Devil take
The diamond and the lover.
BY Satan taught, all conjurers know
Your mistress in a glass to show,
And you can do as much :
In this the Devil and you agree:
None e'er made verses worse than he,
And thine I swear are such.
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