Page:The Works of the Rev. Jonathan Swift, Volume 7.djvu/73

Rh From whence the neighbouring farmer calls The steeple, Knock; the vicar, Walls. The vicar once a week creeps in, Sits with his knees up to his chin; Here cons his notes, and takes a whet, Till the small ragged flock is met. A traveller, who by did pass, Observ'd the roof behind the grass: On tiptoe stood, and rear'd his snout, And saw the parson creeping out; Was much surpris'd to see a crow Venture to build his nest so low. A schoolboy ran unto 't and thought, The crib was down, the blackbird caught. A third, who lost his way by night, Was forc'd for safety to alight, And stepping o'er the fabrick roof, His horse had like to spoil his hoof. Warburton took it in his noddle, This building was design'd a model; Or of a pigeon-house or oven, To bake one loaf, and keep one dove in. Then Mrs. Johnson gave her verdict, And every one was pleased that heard it: All that you make this stir about Is but a still which wants a spout. The reverend Dr. Raymond guess'd More probably than all the rest; He said, but that it wanted room, It might have been a pigmy's tomb. The