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O teach me, dear, new words to speak my flame!
Teach me to woo thee by thy best lov’d name! 96
Whether the style of Grildrig please thee moft,
So call'd on Brobdingnag's ftupendous coast,
When on the monarch's ample hand you sate,
And hollow'd in his ear intrigues of state ; 100
Or Quinbus Flestrin more endearment brings,
When like a mountain you look'd down on kings:
If ducal Nardac, Lilliputian peer,
Or Glumglum's humbler title footh thine ear:
Nay, would kind Jove my organs fo dispose, 105
To hymn barmonious Houyhnhnm thro' the nose,
I'd call thee Houyhnhom, that high founding name ;
Thy children's noses all should twang the fame.
So mi ht I find my loving spouse of course
Endu'd with all the virtues of a borsea






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Loft, I gaze ;
Can our eyes
Reach thy fize:
May my lays
Swell with praise,
Worthy thee!
Worthy me!
Muse, inspire
All thy fire !
Bards of old
Of him told,
When they said,
Atlas head





Propt the skies ;
See ! and belieye your eyes !

See him ftride
Valleys wide,
Over woods,
Over floods !
When he treads,
Mountains heads
Groan and shake;
Armies quake :
Let his spurn
Man and steed;
Troops, take head!
Left and right,
Speed your flight!

Left an hoft
Beneath his foot be loft

Turn'd aside
From his hide
Safe from wound
Darts rebound.
From his nose
Clouds he blows :
When he speaks,
Thunder breaks !
When he eats,
Famine threats !
When he drinks,
Neptune Shrinks!
Nigh thy ear,
In mid air,
On thy hand
Let me stand;

So Thall I,
Lofty poet! touch the liyo



* A gentle ECHO on WOMAN.

In the Doric Manner.

CHO, I ween, will in the woods repły,
And quaintly answer questions : shall I try?

Echo, Try.
What muft we do our passion to express ?

Echo, Press,
How shall I please her who ne'er lov?d before?

Echo, Before.
What most moves women, when we them address ?

Echo, A drefi.
Say, what can keep her chaste, whom I adore ?

Echo, A door.
If-mafic soften rocks, love tunes my lyre.

Echo, Lyar.
Then teach me, Echo, how shall I come by her?

Echo, Buy her.
When bought, no question, I shall be her dear?

Echo, Her deer.
But deer have horns ; how must I keep her under?

Echo, Keep her under,
How shall I hold her ne'er to part afunder?

Echo, A-se under.
But what can glad me when she's laid on bier ?

Echo, Beer,
What must I do, when woman will be kind?

Echo, Be kind,

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What muft I do, when woman will be cross ?

Echo, Be cro
Lord I what is the that can fo turn and wind ?

Echo, Wind. Shepherd, If she be wind, what Aills her when the blows ?

Echo, Blows, Shepherd, But if the bang again, fill should I bang her ?

Echo, Bang ber. Shepherd, Is there no way to moderate her anger?

Echo, Hang her. Shepherd, Thanks, gentle Echo, right thy answers tell, What woman is, and how to guard her well.

Echo, Guard ber well.

EPILOGUE to a Play for the benefit

of the Weavers in Ireland, 1721.

H O dares affirm this is no pious age,

When charity begins to trade the stage ?
When actors, who at beft are hardly favers,
Will give a night of benefit to weavers ?
Stay,---let me see, how finely will it sound!

5 Imprimis, from his Grace * a hundred pound : Peers, clergy, gentry, all are benefactors ; And then comes in the item of the actors : Item, the actors freely give a day, The poet had no more who made the play.

10 Bu'r whence this wondrous charity in play'rs? They learn’d it not at sermons, or at pray'rs. Under the rose, since here are none but friends, To own the truth, we have some private ends.

* Dr William King, Archbishop of Dublin.

Since waiting-women, like exacting jades, 15
Hold up the prices of their old brocades,
We'll dress in manufactures made at home,
Equip our kings and gen'rels at the Comb* :
We'll rig in Meath ftreet Ægypt's haughty queen ;
And Anthony shall court her in rateen.

In blue jhalloon shall Hannibal be clad,
And Scipio trail an Irish purple plado
In drugget dress’d, of thirteen pence a-yard,
See Philip's fon amidst his Persian guard ;
And proud Roxana, fir'd with jealous rage, 25
With fifty yards of crape shall sweep the ftage.
In Nort, our kings and princesses within
Are all resolv'd the project to begin ;
And you, our subjects, when you here resort,
Mult imitate the fashions of the court.

30 OH! could I see this audience clad in fuff, Tho' money's scarce, we should have trade enough. But chints, brocades, and lace take all away, And scarce a crown is left to see a play. Perhaps you wonder whence this friendship springs 35 Between the weavers, and us playhouse-kings: But wit and weaving had the same beginning ; Pallas first taught us poetry and spinning. And next observe how this alliance fits, For weavers now are just as poor as wits : Their brother quill-men, workers for the stage, For sorry ftuff can get a crown a. page ; But weavers will be kinder to the play’rs, And sell for twenty pence a yard of theirs : And, to your knowledge, there is often less in

45 The poet's wit, than in the player's dresing.


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* A street in Dublin famous for woollen manufactures.

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