Page:The Works of the Rev. Jonathan Swift, Volume 17.djvu/402

396 And her full pipes those shrilling cries confound; To her full pipes the grunting hog replies; The grunting hogs alarm the neighbours round, And curs, girls, boys, and scolds, in the deep base are drown'd.

Hard by a sty, beneath a roof of thatch, Dwelt Obloquy, who in her early days Baskets of fish at Billingsgate did watch, Cod, whiting, oyster, mackrel, sprat, or plaice: There learn'd she speech from tongues that never cease. Slander, beside her, like a magpie chatters, With Envy (spitting cat) dread foe to peace; Like a curs'd cur, Malice before her clatters, And, vexing ev'ry wight, tears clothes and all to tatters.

Her dugs were mark'd by ev'ry collier's hand, Her mouth was black as bulldog's at the stall: She scratched, bit, and spar'd ne lace ne band; And bitch and rogue her answer was to all; Nay, e'en the parts of shame by name would call. Whene'er she passed by a lane or nook, Would greet the man who turn'd him to the wall, And by his hand obscene the porter took, Nor ever did askance like modest virgin look.

Such place hath Deptford, navy-building town; Woolwich and Wapping, smelling strong of pitch: Such