Page:The Works of the Rev. Jonathan Swift, Volume 12.djvu/39

Rh My stable's unslated, Come back t'us well freighted; I remember my late-head, And wish you translated, For teazing me.

2 P. S. Mrs. Dingley Desires me singly Her service to present you, Hopes that will content you; But Johnson madam Is grown a sad dame, For want of your converse, And cannot send one verse.

3 P. S. You keep such a twattling With you and your bottling, But I see the sum total, We shall ne'er have one bottle; The long and the short, We shall not have a quart. I wish you would sign't, That we may have a pint, For all your colloguing , I'd be glad of a knogging : But I doubt 'tis a sham, You won't give us a dram. 'Tis of shine, a mouth moon-full, You won't part with a spoonful, And I must be nimble, If I can fill my thimble. You