A man come now from Quilca says,
"_They_'ve[2] stolen the locks from all your keys;"
But, what must fret and vex me more,
He says, "_They_ stole the keys before.
_They_'ve stol'n the knives from all the forks;
And half the cows from half the sturks."
Nay more, the fellow swears and vows,
"_They_'ve stol'n the sturks from half the cows:"
With many more accounts of woe,
Yet, though the devil be there, I'll go:
'Twixt you and me, the reason's clear,
Because I've more vexation here.
[Footnote 1: Signora Faustina, a famous Italian singer.--_Dublin
Edition._]
[Footnote 2: _They_ is the grand thief of the county of Cavan, for
whatever is stolen, if you enquire of a servant about it, the answer is,
"They have stolen it." _Dublin Edition._--_W. E. B._]
AN INVITATION TO DINNER
FROM DOCTOR SHERIDAN TO DOCTOR SWIFT
1727
I've sent to the ladies this morning to warn 'em,
To order their chaise, and repair to Rathfarnam;[1]
Where you shall be welcome to dine, if your deanship
Can take up with me, and my friend Stella's leanship.[2]
I've got you some soles, and a fresh bleeding bret,
That's just disengaged from the toils of a net:
An excellent loin of fat veal to be roasted,
With lemons, and butter, and sippets well toasted:
Some larks that descended, mistaking the skies,
Which Stella brought down by the light of her eyes;
And there, like Narcissus,[3] they gazed till they died,
And now they're to lie in some crumbs that are fried.
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