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EPIGRA M. From the FRENCH *.
HO can believe with common sense,
Or, how a herring hath a charm
Does he regard on what we dine?
On a CURATE'S Complaint of HARD DUTY.
MARCH'D three miles through fcorching fand,
I rode four more to Great St. Mary,
Ufing four legs, when two were weary:
I preach'd three congregations deaf;
Saw all these mighty labours done
What mortal elfe could e'er go through it!
* Written extempore by a gentleman who was reproved by fome of his companions for eating eggs and bacon on a fast-day.
A True and Faithful INVENTORY of the GOODS belonging to Dr. SWIFT, Vicar of LARACOR; Upon lending his Houfe to the Bishop of MEATH, till his Palace was re-built.
AN oaken, broken elbow-chair;
A cawdle-cup, without an ear;
A wig, with hanging, quite grown grey;
A pair of bellows, without pipe;
A difh which might good meat afford once;
CADENUS AND VANESSA*.
Written at Windfor, 1713.
HE fhepherds and the nymphs were seen
The counfel for the fair began,
Accufing the falfe creature man.
The brief with weighty crimes was charg'd,
Against our fovereign lady's peace,
Against the ftatute in that cafe,
The nymphs with fcorn beheld their foes: When the d fendant's counfel rofe,
*Founded on an offer of marriage made by Mifs Vanhomrigh to Dr. Swift, who was occafionally her preceptor. The lady's unhappy story is well known.
And, what no lawyer ever lack'd,
With impudence own'd all the fa&t;
But, what the gentlest heart would vex,
Laid all the fault on t'other fex.
That modern love is no fuch thing
Which, having found an equal flame,
Or fome worfe brute in human shape,
The few foft moments they can spare,
From fans, and flounces, and brocades,..
From equipage and park-parades,
From all the thoufand female toys,.
From every trifle that employs
The out or infide of their heads,
Between their toilets and their beds.
In a dull stream, which moving flow,
You hardly fee the current flow;
If a fmall breeze obftruct the course,
It whirls about, for want of force,
And in its narrow circle gathers
Nothing but chaff, and ftraws, and feathers.
Stops thus, and turns with every wind;
Fools, fops, and rakes, for chaff and straws.
Nor are the men of fenfe to blame,
For breafts incapable of flame;
The fault must on the nymphs be plac'd,
The pleader, having fpoke his beft,
Elfe the muft interpofe a cloud:
For, if the heavenly folk fhould know.
Thefe pleadings in the courts below,
That mortals here difdain to love,