E. of DORSE T.
ARTEMISIA.
TH
HO' Artemifia talks, by fits,
Of councils, claffics, fathers, wits;
Reads Malbranche, Boyle, and Locke:
Yet in fome things methinks fhe fails,
'Twere well if she would pare her nails,
And wear a cleaner fmock.
Haughty and huge as High-Dutch bride,
Such naftiness, and fo much pride,
Are oddly join'd by fate:
On her large fquab you find her spread,
Like a fat corpfe upon a bed,
That lies and stinks in state.
She wears no colours (fign of grace)
On any part except her face;
All white and black befide:
Dauntless her look, her gesture proud,
Her voice theatrically loud,
And mafculine her ftride.
So have I feen, in black and white
A prating thing, a Magpye hight,
Majestically stalk ;
A fately, worthless animal,
That plies the tongue, and wags the tail,
All flutter, pride, and talk.
PHRY NE.
PH
HRYNE had talents for mankind, Open she was, and unconfin'd, Like fome free port of trade: Merchants unloaded here their freight, And Agents from each foreign ftate, Here first their entry made.
Her learning and good-breeding fuch,
Whether th' Italian or the Dutch,
Spaniards or French came to her : To all obliging she'd appear: 'Twas Si Signior, 'twas Yaw Mynbeer, "Twas S'il vous plaift, Monfieur.
Obfcure by birth, renown'd by crimes,
Still changing names, religions, climes,
At length she turns a Bride:
In di'monds, pearls, and rich brocades,
She shines the first of batter'd jades,
And flutters in her pride.
So have I known those Infects fair
(Which curious Germans hold fo rare) Still vary shapes and dyes;
Still gain new titles with new forms;
First grubs obscene, then wriggling worms,
Then painted butterflies.
DR. S W IF T.
The Happy Life of a COUNTRY
PARSON.
PAR
Arson, these things in thy poffeffing
Are better than the Bishop's bleffing.
A Wife that makes conferves; a Steed
That carries double when there's need;
October store, and best Virginia,
Tythe-Pig, and mortuary Guinea;
Gazettes fent gratis down, and frank'd,
For which thy Patron's weekly thank'd;
A large Concordance, bound long fince;
Sermons to Charles the Firft, when Prince; ro
A Chronicle of ancient standing;
A Chryfoftom to smooth thy band in :
The Polyglott---three parts,---my text,
Howbeit,---likewife---now to my next :
Lo here the Septuagint,--and Paul,
To fum the whole,---the close of all.
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