Page:The Works of the Rev. Jonathan Swift, Volume 17.djvu/460

454 Biddel, like thee, might farthest India rove; He chang'd his country, but retain'd his love. There's captain Pennel, absent half his life, Comes back, and is the kinder to his wife. Yet Pennel's wife is brown, compar'd to me: And Mrs. Biddel sure is fifty-three. Not touch me! never neighbour call'd me slut: Was Flimnap's dame more sweet in Lilliput? I've no red hair to breathe an odious fume; At least thy consort's cleaner than thy groom. Why then that dirty stableboy thy care? What mean those visits to the sorrel mare? Say, by what witchcraft, or what demon led, Preferr'st thou litter to the marriage bed? Some say, the devil himself is in that mare: If so, our dean shall drive him forth by pray'r. Some think you mad, some think you are possest, That Bedlam and clean straw will suit you best. Vain means, alas, this frenzy to appease! That straw, that straw, would heighten the disease. My bed (the scene of all our former joys, Witness two lovely girls, two lovely boys) Alone I press: in dreams I call my dear, I stretch my hand; no Gulliver is there! I wake, I rise, and shiv'ring with the frost Search all the house; my Gulliver is lost! Forth in the street I rush with frantick cries; The windows open, all the neighbours rise; "Where sleeps my Gulliver? O tell me where!" The neighbours answer, "With the sorrel mare." At early morn I to the market haste (Studious in ev'ry thing to please thy taste) A curious