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118

121
122

Verses made for women who cry apples, be.

114

To love

116

* Verses written upog a very old glass

117

Answered extempore by Dr Swift

• Verses cut upon a pane of glass in the Dean's parlour ib.

On another window

ib.

Epitaph on Frederick Duke of Schomberg

119

A ballad on the game of traffic

120

Verses said to be written on the union

* Will. Wood's petition to the people of Ireland

An epigram on Wood's brass money

124

On the Duke of Chandos

ib.

An epigram on scolding

ib.

Catulus de Lesbia

125

In English

il.

On Mr Jason Hafard's defring a motto to his fign

ib.

The author's manner of living

ib.

To a lady

126

The discovery

134

The problem

336

A love-poem from a physician to his miftress

138

On a printer's being fent to Newgate, by

139

On the little house by the church.yard of Caftlenock ib.

* Upon stealing a crown when the Dean was afleep

143

The Dean's answer

142

* An epitaph on Dr Swift's dog

ib.

Riddles

143-150

To Dr Sheridan

150

* A rebus written by a lady on the Rev. Dean Swift. 152

The answer

153

Written by the Rev. Dr Swift on his own deafness,

154

In English

ib.

A letter to Dr Hellham

ih.

To Dr Sheridan

A letter to Dr Hellham

ih.

Probatur aliter

158

Tom's metamorphosis into a poet and spaniel

159

Mrs Pilkington to Dr Swift, on his birthday

161

A love-song

ib.

An epigram on Dick

ib.

162

Tbe end of the MISCELLANIES in V&B SE,

A letter to a young clergyman

170

An essay on the fates of clergymen.

j89

An essay on modern education

197

A letter to a very young lady on her marriage

205

A preface to Bishop Burnet's introduction,

215

Polite conversation. In three dialogues

245

Directions to servants

344

The duty of servants at inns

402

"MISCEL-

The life and genuine character of Dr Swift

MISCELLANIES in VERSE.

316 17 18 ib. ib. -19 20

C O N T I N E D.

A beautiful Young Nymph going to bed *. Written for the honour of the Fair Sex, in 1731.

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ORINNA, pride of Drury-lane,
For whom no shepherd fighs in vain,

Never did Covent-garden boaft
So bright a batter'd strolling toalt!
No druken rake to pick her up,
No cellar, where on tick to sup;
Returning at the midnight-hour,
Four stories climbing to her bow'r ;
Then feated on a three-legg'd chair,
Takes off her artificial hair.
Now picking out a crystal eye,
She wipes it clean, and lays it by.
Her eyebrows from a mouse's hide
Stuck on with art on either side,
Pulls off with care, and first displays 'em,
Then in a play-book smoothly lays 'em.
Now dextrously her plumpers draws,
That serve to fill her hollow jaws.
Untwists a wire, and from her gums
A fet of teeth completely comes.
Pulls out the rags contriv'd to prop
Her flabby dugs, and down they drop.

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* This poem, for which some have thought no apology could be offered, deserves, on the contrary, great commendation; as it much mon forcibly restrains the thoughtless and the young from the risk of health and life, by picking up a prostitute, than the finest declamation on the fordidness of the appetite. Hawkes. VOL. VII.

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Proceeding on, the lovely goddess
Unlaces next her steel-ribb'd bodice,
Which, by the operator's skill,
Press down the lumps, the hollows fill.
Up goes her hand, and off the slips

The bolsters that fupply her hips.
With gentlest touch the next explores
Her shancres, issues, running fores;

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Effects of many a sad disaster,
And then to each applies a plaister:
But must, before she goes to bed,
Rub off the daubs of white and red,
And smooth the furrows in her front

35
With greasy paper stuck upon't.
She takes a bolus ere she sleeps;
And then between two blankets creeps.
With pains of love tormented lies ;
Or if the chance to close her eyes,

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Of Bridewell and the Compter dreams,
And feels the lash, and faintly screams;
Or by a faithless bully drawn,
At some hedge tavern lies in pawn;
Or to Jamaica seems transported

45
Alone *, and by no planter courted;
Or, near Fleet-ditch's oozy brinks,
Surrounded with a hundred stinks,
Belated, seems on watch to lie,
And snap some cully passing by ;
Or, struck with fear, her fancy runs
On watchmen, conftables, and duns,
From whom she meets with frequent rubs ;
But never from religious clubs;
Whose favour she is sure to find,

55 Because she pays them all in kind,

50

Et longam incomitata videtur

Ire viam,

-Virg.

60

CORINNA wakes. A dreadful fight!
Behold the ruins of the night!
A wicked rat her plaifter stole,
Half eat, and draggd it to his hole.
The cryftal eye, alas ! was miss’d;
And pufs had on her plumpers -- ss'd.
A pigeon pick'd her issue-peas :
And shock her treffes fill'd with fleas.

The nymph, tho' in this mangled plight,
Muft ev'ry morn her limbs unite.
But how shall I describe her arts
To recollect the fcatter'd parts?
Or shew the anguish, toil, and pain,
Of gath'ring op herself again?
The bashful muse will never bear
In such a scene to interfere.
Corinna in the morning dizen'd,
Who sees, will spue; who smells, be poison d.

65

70

STRE PHON and CHLOE *.

Written in the year 1731. OF

Chloe all the town has rung,

By ev'ry Gize of poets sung:
So beautiful a nymph appears
But once in twenty thousand years ;
By nature form'd with nicest care,

5 And faultless to a single hair.

* This poem has among others been censured for in delicacy; but with no better reason than a medicine would be rejected for its ill taste. By attending to the marriage of Strephon and Chloe, the reader is necessarily led to consider the effect of that gross familiarity in which it is to be feared many married persons think they have a right to indulge themselves : he who is disgusted.at the picture, feels the force of the precept, not to disgust another by his practice: and let it never be forgotten, that nothing quenches desire like indelicacy; and that when desire has been ibus quenched, kindness will inevitably grow cold. Hawkef.

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Her graceful mien, her shape, and face,
Confess'd her of no mortal race :
And then so nice, and so genteel;
Such cleanliness from head to heel :
No humours gross, or frowzy fteams,
No noisome whiffs, or sweaty streams,
Before, behind, above, below,
Could from her taintless body flow:
Would fo discreetly things dispose,
None ever faw her pluck a rose.
Her deareft comrades never caught her
Squat on her hams, to make maid's water.
You'd swear that fo divine a creature
Felt no necessities of nature.
In summer had she walk'd the town,
Her armpits would not stain her gown :
At country-dances not a nose
Could in the dog-days smell her toes.
Her milk-white hands, both palms and backs,
Like iv'ry dry, and soft as wax.
Her hands, the softest ever felt,
Tho'cold would burn, tho' dry would melt t.

Dear Venus, hide this wondrous maid,
Nor let her loose to spoil your trade.
While she ingrosses ev'ry swain,
You but o'er half the world can reign.
Think what a case all men are now in,
What ogling, sigbing, toasting, vowing !
What powder'd wigs! what Hames and darts!
What hampers full of bleeding hearts !
What Sword-knots ! what poetic strains !
What billet-doux, and clouded canes!

But Strephon figh'd so loud and strong,
He blew a settlement along;

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$ Though deep, yet clear, Gr. Denbam.

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