Jonathan Swift

Dingley and Brent,      Wherever they went,
Ne'er minded a word that was spoken;      Whatever was said,      They ne'er troubled their head,
But laugh'd at their own silly joking
Should Solomon wise      In majesty rise,

At Market-Hill, as well appears By chronicle of ancient date,
There stood for many hundred years A spacious thorn before the gate
Hither came every village maid, And on the boughs her garland hung,
And here, beneath the spreading sh...

Here lies the Earl of Suffolk's fool,  Men call'd him Dicky Pearce;
His folly served to make folks laugh,  When wit and mirth were scarce
Poor Dick, alas
is dead and gone,  What signifies to cry

The Farmer's Goose, who in the Stubble,
Has fed without Restraint, or Trouble;
Grown fat with Corn and Sitting still,
Can scarce get o'er the Barn-Door Sill:

HE shepherds and the nymphs were
Pleading before the Cyprian Queen
The counsel for the fair
Accusing the false creature, man

This day (the year I dare not tell) Apollo play'd the midwife's part;
Into the world Corinna fell, And he endued her with his art
But Cupid with a Satyr comes; Both softly to the cradle creep;
Both stroke her hands, and rub her gums...

Death went upon a solemn
At Pluto's hall his court to pay;
The phantom having humbly
His grisly monarch's sooty fist,

As, when a lofty pile is raised,
We never hear the workmen praised,
Who bring the lime, or place the stones;
But all admire Inigo Jones:

Desponding Phillis was endu'd With ev'ry Talent of a Prude,
She trembled when a Man drew near;
Salute her, and she turn'd her Ear:
If o'er against her you were plac't She durst not look above your Wa[i]st;

Let me thy Properties explain, A rotten Cabin, dropping Rain; Chimnies with Scorn rejecting Smoak; Stools,
Tables,
Chairs, and Bed-steds broke: Here Elements have lost their Vses, Air ripens not, nor Earth produces: In vain we make poor ...

As Rochefoucauld his maxims
From Nature,
I believe 'em true:
They argue no corrupted

Gently stir and blow the fire,
Lay the mutton down to roast,
Dress it quickly,
I desire,

To their Excellencies the Lords Justices of Ireland,
The humble petition of Frances Harris,
Who must starve and die a maid if it miscarries;
Humble sheweth, that I went to warm myself in Lady Betty's chamber, because I was cold;

IR,  Pray discruciate what follows
The dullest beast, and gentleman's liquor,
When young is often due to the vicar,[1]The dullest of beasts, and swine's delight,
Make up a bird very swift of flight

All of us in one you'll find,
Brethren of a wondrous kind;
Yet among us all no
Knows one tittle of the other;

Ever eating, never cloying,
All-devouring, all-destroying,
Never finding full repast,
Till I eat the world at last