Page:The Works of the Rev. Jonathan Swift, Volume 17.djvu/430



IN vain you boast poetic names of yore, And cite those Sapphoes we admire no more: Fate doom'd the fall of every female wit; But doom'd it then, when first Ardelia writ. Of all examples by the world confest, I knew Ardelia could not quote the best; Who, like her mistress on Britannia's throne, Fights and subdues in quarrels not her own. To write their praise you but in vain essay; Ev'n while you write, you take that praise away: Light to the stars the sun does thus restore, But shines himself till they are seen no more.

A BISHOP by his neighbours hated Has cause to wish himself translated; But why should Hough desire translation, Lov'd and esteem'd by all the nation? Yet, if it be the old man's case, I'll lay my life I know the place: 'Tis where God sent some that adore him, And whither Enoch went before him. TO