Page:The Works of the Rev. Jonathan Swift, Volume 8.djvu/157

Rh Through various shapes I often pass'd, Still hoping to have rest at last; And still ambitious to obtain Admittance to the patriot dean; And sometimes got within his door, But soon turn'd out to serve the poor ; Not strolling Idleness to aid, But honest Industry decay'd. At length an artist purchas'd me, And wrought me to the shape you see. This done, to Hermes I apply'd; "O Hermes! gratify my pride; Be it my fate to serve a sage, The greatest genius of his age; That matchless pen let me supply, Whose living lines will never die!" "I grant your suit;" the God replied. And here he left me to reside.

PAPER BOOK is sent by Boyle, Too neatly gilt for me to soil. Delany sends a silver standish, When I no more a pen can brandish. Rh