Page:The Works of the Rev. Jonathan Swift, Volume 7.djvu/281

Rh Whatever was said, They ne'er troubled their head, But laugh'd at their own silly joking. Should Solomon wise In majesty rise, And show them his wit and his learning; They never would hear. But turn the deaf ear, As a matter they had no concern in. You tell a good jest, And please all the rest; Comes Dingley, and asks you, what was it? And, curious to know, Away she will go To seek an old rag in the closet.

ORMENTED with incessant pains, Can I devise poetick strains? Time was, when I could yearly pay My verse on Stella's native day: But now, unable grown to write, I grieve she ever saw the light. Ungrateful! since to her I owe That I these pains can undergo. She