Page:The Works of the Rev. Jonathan Swift, Volume 17.djvu/407



HOW much, egregious Moore, are we Deceiv'd by shows and forms! Whate'er we think, whatever we see, All human kind are worms.

Man is a very worm by birth, Vile, reptile, weak, and vain! A while he crawls upon the earth, Then shrinks to earth again.

That Woman is a worm, we find, E'er since our Grandame's evil, She first conversed with her own kind, That ancient worm, the Devil.

The learn'd themselves we bookworms name, The blockhead is a slowworm; The nymph, whose tail is all on flame, Is aptly termed a glowworm.

The fops are painted butterflies, That flutter for a day; First from a worm they take their rise, And in a worm decay.

The flatterer an earwig grows; Thus worms suit all conditions; Misers are muckworms, silkworms beaus, And deathwatches physicians. . XVII.