Page:The Works of the Rev. Jonathan Swift, Volume 7.djvu/373

( 361 ) VI.

! Neptune! must I still Be here detain'd against my will? Is this your justice, when I'm come Above two hundred miles from home! O'er mountains steep, o'er dusty plains, Half choked with dust, half drown'd with rains; Only your Godship to implore, To let me kiss your other shore? A boon so small! but I may weep, While you're, like Baal, fast asleep.

VII..

to my stars, I once can see A window here from scribbling free! Here no conceited coxcombs pass, To scratch their paltry drabs on glass; Nor party-fool is calling names. Or dealing crowns to George and James.

VIII.