Page:The Works of the Rev. Jonathan Swift, Volume 7.djvu/146

134 Exchange the prospects that delude thy sight, From Highgate's steep ascent and Hampstead's height, With verdant scenes, that, from St. George's field, More durable and safe enjoyments yield. Here I, ev'n I, that ne'er till now could find Ease to my troubled and suspicious mind, But ever was with jealousies possess'd, Am in a state of indolence and rest; Fearful no more of Frenchmen in disguise, Nor looking upon strangers as on spies, But quite divested of my former spleen, Am unprovok'd without, and calm within: And here I'll wait thy coming, till the sun Shall its diurnal course completely run. Think not that thou of sturdy bub shall fail, My landlord's cellar's stock'd with beer and ale, With every sort of malt that is in use, And every county's generous produce. The ready (for here Christian faith is sick, Which makes us seldom trespass upon tick) Instantly brings the choicest liquors out, Whether we ask for homebrew'd or for stout, For mead or cider, or, with dainties fed, Ring for a flask or two of white or red, Such as the drawer will not fail to swear Was drunk by Pilkington when third time mayor. That name, methinks, so popularly known For opposition to the church and crown, Might make the Lusitanian grape to pass, And almost give a sanction to the glass; Especially with thee, whose hasty zeal Against the late rejected commerce bill Made thee rise up, like an audacious elf, To do the speaker honour, not thyself. But,