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Swift, Jonathan, 1667-1745

"The Poems of Jonathan Swift, D.D., Volume 2"

Th' clans of th' c'llege Sanh'drim,
Pres'nt the'r humbl' and 'fect'nate respects; that's t' say,
D'ln', 'chlin, P. Ludl', Dic' St'wart, H'lsham, Capt'n
P'rr' Walmsl', 'nd Long sh'nks Timm.[2]
[Footnote 1: For the persons here alluded to see "The Country Life," vol.
i, p. 137.--_W. E. B._]
[Footnote 2: Dr. James Stopford, afterwards Bishop of Cloyne.]

GEORGE-NIM-DAN-DEAN'S ANSWER

Dear Sheridan! a gentle pair
Of Gaulstown lads (for such they are)
Besides a brace of grave divines,
Adore the smoothness of thy lines:
Smooth as our basin's silver flood,
Ere George had robb'd it of its mud;
Smoother than Pegasus' old shoe,
Ere Vulcan comes to make him new.
The board on which we set our a--s,
Is not so smooth as are thy verses;
Compared with which (and that's enough)
A smoothing-iron itself is rough.
Nor praise I less that circumcision,
By modern poets call'd elision,
With which, in proper station placed,
Thy polish'd lines are firmly braced.[1]
Thus a wise tailor is not pinching,
But turns at every seam an inch in:
Or else, be sure, your broad-cloth breeches
Will ne'er be smooth, nor hold their stitches.
Thy verse, like bricks, defy the weather,
When smooth'd by rubbing them together;
Thy words so closely wedged and short are,
Like walls, more lasting without mortar;
By leaving out the needless vowels,
You save the charge of lime and trowels.


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