The Poems of Jonathan Swift, D.D Volume I Part 34

Some try to learn polite behaviour By reading books against their Saviour; Some call it witty to reflect On ev'ry natural defect; Some shew they never want explaining To comprehend a double meaning.

But sure a tell-tale out of school Is of all wits the greatest fool; Whose rank imagination fills Her heart, and from her lips distils; You'd think she utter'd from behind, Or at her mouth was breaking wind.

Why is a handsome wife ador'd By every c.o.xcomb but her lord?

From yonder puppet-man inquire, Who wisely hides his wood and wire; Shows Sheba's queen completely drest, And Solomon in royal vest: But view them litter'd on the floor, Or strung on pegs behind the door; Punch is exactly of a piece With Lorrain's duke, and prince of Greece.

A prudent builder should forecast How long the stuff is like to last; And carefully observe the ground, To build on some foundation sound.

What house, when its materials crumble, Must not inevitably tumble?

What edifice can long endure Raised on a basis unsecure?

Rash mortals, ere you take a wife, Contrive your pile to last for life: Since beauty scarce endures a day, And youth so swiftly glides away; Why will you make yourself a bubble, To build on sand with hay and stubble?

On sense and wit your pa.s.sion found, By decency cemented round; Let prudence with good-nature strive, To keep esteem and love alive.

Then come old age whene'er it will, Your friendship shall continue still: And thus a mutual gentle fire Shall never but with life expire.

[Footnote 1: A delicate way of speaking of a lady retiring behind a bush in a garden.--_W. E. B_.]

[Footnote 2: "Though deep, yet clear, though gentle, yet not dull Strong without rage, without o'erflowing, full."

DENHAM, _Cooper's Hill._]

[Footnote 3: A veil with which the Roman brides covered themselves when going to be married.--_W. E. B._]

[Footnote 4: Marriage song, sung at weddings.--_W. E. B._]

[Footnote 5: Diana.]

[Footnote 6: Who married Thetis, the Nereid, by whom he became the father of Achilles.--Ovid, "Metamorph.," lib. xi, 221, _seq.--W. E. B._]

[Footnote 7: See Ovid, "Metamorph.," lib. iii.--_W. E. B_.]

[Footnote 8: A precept of Pythagoras. Hence, in French _argot_, beans, as causing wind, are called _musiciens.--W. E. B._]

[Footnote 9: Provocative of perspiration and urine.]

[Footnote 1: "Mingere c.u.m bombis res est saluberrima lumbis." A precept to be found in the "Regimen Sanitatis," or "Schola Salernitana," a work in rhyming Latin verse composed at Salerno, the earliest school in Christian Europe where medicine was professed, taught, and practised. The original text, if anywhere, is in the edition published and commented upon by Arnaldus de Villa Nova, about 1480. Subsequently above one hundred and sixty editions of the "Schola Salernitana" were published, with many additions. A reprint of the first edition, edited by Sir Alexander Croke, with woodcuts from the editions of 1559, 1568, and 1573, was published at Oxford in 1830.--_W. E. B._]

APOLLO; OR, A PROBLEM SOLVED 1731

Apollo, G.o.d of light and wit, Could verse inspire, but seldom writ, Refined all metals with his looks, As well as chemists by their books; As handsome as my lady's page; Sweet five-and-twenty was his age.

His wig was made of sunny rays, He crown'd his youthful head with bays; Not all the court of Heaven could show So nice and so complete a beau.

No heir upon his first appearance, With twenty thousand pounds a-year rents, E'er drove, before he sold his land, So fine a coach along the Strand; The spokes, we are by Ovid told, Were silver, and the axle gold: I own, 'twas but a coach-and-four, For Jupiter allows no more.

Yet, with his beauty, wealth, and parts, Enough to win ten thousand hearts, No vulgar deity above Was so unfortunate in love.

Three weighty causes were a.s.sign'd, That moved the nymphs to be unkind.

Nine Muses always waiting round him, He left them virgins as he found them.

His singing was another fault; For he could reach to B in _alt_: And, by the sentiments of Pliny,[1]

Such singers are like Nicolini.

At last, the point was fully clear'd; In short, Apollo had no beard.

[Footnote 1: "Bubus tantum feminis vox gravior, in alio omni genere exilior quam maribus, in homine etiam castratis."--"Hist. Nat.," xi, 51.

"A condicione castrati seminis quae spadonia appellant Belgae,"

_ib_. xv.--_W. E. B._]

THE PLACE OF THE d.a.m.nED 1731

All folks who pretend to religion and grace, Allow there's a h.e.l.l, but dispute of the place: But, if h.e.l.l may by logical rules be defined The place of the d.a.m.n'd--I'll tell you my mind.

Wherever the d.a.m.n'd do chiefly abound, Most certainly there is h.e.l.l to be found: d.a.m.n'd poets, d.a.m.n'd critics, d.a.m.n'd blockheads, d.a.m.n'd knaves, d.a.m.n'd senators bribed, d.a.m.n'd prost.i.tute slaves; d.a.m.n'd lawyers and judges, d.a.m.n'd lords and d.a.m.n'd squires; d.a.m.n'd spies and informers, d.a.m.n'd friends and d.a.m.n'd liars; d.a.m.n'd villains, corrupted in every station; d.a.m.n'd time-serving priests all over the nation; And into the bargain I'll readily give you d.a.m.n'd ignorant prelates, and counsellors privy.

Then let us no longer by parsons be flamm'd, For we know by these marks the place of the d.a.m.n'd: And h.e.l.l to be sure is at Paris or Rome.

How happy for us that it is not at home!

THE DAY OF JUDGMENT[1]

With a whirl of thought oppress'd, I sunk from reverie to rest.

An horrid vision seized my head; I saw the graves give up their dead!

Jove, arm'd with terrors, bursts the skies, And thunder roars and lightning flies!

Amaz'd, confus'd, its fate unknown, The world stands trembling at his throne!

While each pale sinner hung his head, Jove, nodding, shook the heavens, and said: "Offending race of human kind, By nature, reason, _learning_, blind; You who, through frailty, stepp'd aside; And you, who never fell--_through pride_: You who in different sects were shamm'd, And come to see each other d.a.m.n'd; (So some folk told you, but they knew No more of Jove's designs than you;) --The world's mad business now is o'er, And I resent these pranks no more.

--I to such blockheads set my wit!

I d.a.m.n such fools!--Go, go, you're _bit_."

[Footnote 1: This Poem was sent in a letter from Lord Chesterfield to Voltaire, dated 27th August, 1752, in which he says: "Je vous envoie ci-jointe une piece par le feu Docteur Swift, laquelle je crois ne vous deplaira pas. Elle n'a jamais ete imprimee, vous en devinerez bien la raison, roais elle est authentique. J'en ai l'original, ecrit de sa propre main."--_W. E. B._]

JUDAS. 1731

By the just vengeance of incensed skies, Poor Bishop Judas late repenting dies.

The Jews engaged him with a paltry bribe, Amounting hardly to a crown a-tribe; Which though his conscience forced him to restore, (And parsons tell us, no man can do more,) Yet, through despair, of G.o.d and man accurst, He lost his bishopric, and hang'd or burst.

Those former ages differ'd much from this; Judas betray'd his master with a kiss: But some have kiss'd the gospel fifty times, Whose perjury's the least of all their crimes; Some who can perjure through a two inch-board, Yet keep their bishoprics, and 'scape the cord: Like hemp, which, by a skilful spinster drawn To slender threads, may sometimes pa.s.s for lawn.

As ancient Judas by transgression fell, And burst asunder ere he went to h.e.l.l; So could we see a set of new Iscariots Come headlong tumbling from their mitred chariots; Each modern Judas perish like the first, Drop from the tree with all his bowels burst; Who could forbear, that view'd each guilty face, To cry, "Lo! Judas gone to his own place, His habitation let all men forsake, And let his bishopric another take!"

AN EPISTLE TO MR. GAY[1]

1731