Page:The Works of the Rev. Jonathan Swift, Volume 18.djvu/434

420 Madness like this no fancy ever seized, Still to be cheated, never to be pleased; Since one false beam of joy in sickly minds Is all the poor content delusion finds. — There thy enchantment broke, and from this hour I here renounce thy visionary pow'r; And since thy essence on my breath depends, Thus with a puff the whole delusion ends. EPITAPH