Page:The Works of the Rev. Jonathan Swift, Volume 7.djvu/142

 The queen, forsooth (despotick), gave Twelve coronets without thy leave! A breach of liberty, 'tis own'd, For which no heads have yet aton'd! Believe me, what thou'st undertaken May bring in jeopardy thy bacon; For madmen, children, wits, and fools, Should never meddle with edg'd tools. But, since thou'rt got into the fire, And canst not easily retire, Thou must no longer deal in farce, Nor pump to cobble wicked verse; Until thou shalt have eas'd thy conscience, Of spleen, of politicks, and nonsense; And, when thou'st bid adieu to cares, And settled Europe's grand affairs, 'Twill then, perhaps, be worth thy while For Drury Lane to shape thy style: "To make a pair of jolly fellows, The son and father, join to tell us, How sons may safely disobey, And fathers never should say nay; By which wise conduct they grow friends At last — and so the story ends ." When first I knew thee, Dick, thou wert Renown'd for skill in Faustus' art ; Which made thy closet much frequented By buxom lasses — some repented Their luckless choice of husbands — others, Impatient to be like their mothers, Receiv'd