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Swift, Jonathan, 1667-1745

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

Thalia, don't make me a comedy;
6. Urania, raise me tow'rds the starry sky:
7. Calliope, to ballad-strains descend,
8. And Polyhymnia, tune them for your friend;
9. So shall Melpomene mourn my fatal end.
POOR DAN JACKSON.
[Footnote 1: A variation from:
"mediocribus esse poetis
Non homines, non di, non concessere columnae."
_Epist. ad Pisones.--W. E. B._]
[Footnote 2: The Yorkshire term for the rounds or steps of a ladder;
still used in every part of Ireland.--_Scott_.]


TO THE REV. DANIEL JACKSON
TO BE HUMBLY PRESENTED BY MR. SHERIDAN IN PERSON,
WITH RESPECT, CARE, AND SPEED.
TO BE DELIVERED BY AND WITH MR. SHERIDAN

DEAR DAN,
Here I return my trust, nor ask
One penny for remittance;
If I have well perform'd my task,
Pray send me an acquittance.
Too long I bore this weighty pack,
As Hercules the sky;
Now take him you, Dan Atlas, back,
Let me be stander-by.
Not all the witty things you speak
In compass of a day,
Not half the puns you make a-week,
Should bribe his longer stay.
With me you left him out at nurse,
Yet are you not my debtor;
For, as he hardly can be worse,
I ne'er could make him better.
He rhymes and puns, and puns and rhymes,
Just as he did before;
And, when he's lash'd a hundred times,
He rhymes and puns the more.


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