Page:The Works of the Rev. Jonathan Swift, Volume 7.djvu/432

 But lest chronology should vary, Upon the ides of February; In seventeen hundred eight and twenty, To Fort St. George a pedlar went he. Ye Fates, when all he gets is spent, !

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to crowds, scorch'd with the summer's heats, In courts the wretched lawyer toils and sweats; While smiling Nature, in her best attire, Regales each sense, and vernal joys inspire. Can he, who knows that real good should please, Barter for gold his liberty and ease?" — Thus Paulus preach'd: — When, entering at the door, Upon his board the client pours the ore: He grasps the shining gift, pores o'er the cause, Forgets the sun, and dozes on the laws. THE