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So, the Bard he finds Drink, and leaves Phæbus
to treat With the Thoughts he inspires, regardless of
Meat. Hence they that come hither expecting to dine, Are always fobb’d off with sheer Wit and sheer
On another Window. A RE the Guests of this House still doom'd
to be cheated ? Sure the Fates have decreed they by Halves
should be treated ? In the Days of good * John, if you came here
to dine, You had Choice of good Meat, no Choice of
good Wine. In Jonathan's Reign if you come here to eat, You have Choice of good Wine, no Choice of
good Meat. Oh Jove ! then how fully might all Sides be
blest, Would'st thou butagree to this humble Request:
Put * Dr. John Stearne, late Lord Bishop of Clogher, who had been the Predecessor of Dr. Swift, in the Deanery of St. Patrick's, and was always distinguished for his great Hospitality,
Put both Deans in one ; or if that's too much
Trouble, Instead of the Deans, make the Deanery double.
To a LADY, who desired the AUTHOR to
write some Verses upon her in the heroic
Written at London in the Year 1736.
Hearken what my Lady says,
If you think me too conceited, · Or to Passion quickly heated;
If my wand'ring Head be less
You would teach me to be wise ;
But it was decreed by Fate,
Bred a Fondling, and an Heiress;
Balls, and Masquerades, and Shows,
Thus you have my Case at large, And may now perform your Charge. Those Materials I have furnishid, When by you refin'd and burnish’d, Must, that all the World may know 'em, Be reduc'd into a Poem. But, I beg, suspend a while That same paultry, burlesque Style ; Drop for once your constant Rule, Turning all to Ridicule : Teaching others how to ape you ; Court nor Parliament can 'scape ye ; Treat the Publick and your Friends Both alike, while neither mends.
Sing my Praise in Strain sublime; Treat not me with doggrel Rhyme. 'Tis but just, you should produce With each Fault, each Fault's Excuse: Not to publish ev'ry Trifle, And my few Perfections stifle. With some Gifts at least endow me, Which my very Foes allow me. Am I spightful, proud, unjust ? Did I ever break my Trust?
Which of all your modern Dames
Think not Cards my chief Diversion,