Page:The Works of the Rev. Jonathan Swift, Volume 8.djvu/60

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SWIFT’S POEMS

Take down thy proudly swelling sails,
And rub thy teeth, and pare thy nails:
At nicely carving show thy wit;
But ne'er presume to eat a bit:
Turn every way thy watchful eye,
And every guest be sure to ply:
Let never at your board be known
An empty plate, except your own.
Be these thy arts; nor higher aim
Than what befits a rural dame.
But Cloacina, goddess bright.
Sleek —— claims her as his right:
And Smedley, flower of all divines,
Shall sing the dean in Smedley's lines.





TWELVE ARTICLES.


I. Lest it may more quarrels breed,
I will never hear you read.
II. By disputing, I will never,
To convince you once endeavour.
III. When a paradox you stick to,
I will never contradict you.
IV. When I talk, and you are heedless,
I will show no anger needless.
V. When your speeches are absurd,
I will ne'er object a word.
VI. When you furious argue wrong,
I will grieve, and hold my tongue.

VII.