Page:The Works of the Rev. Jonathan Swift, Volume 8.djvu/166

Rh While we, whom reason ought to sway, Mistake our talents every day. The Ass was never known so stupid, To act the part of Tray or Cupid; Nor leaps upon his master's lap, There to be strok'd, and fed with pap, As Æsop would the world persuade; He better understands his trade: Nor comes whene'er his lady whistles; But carries loads, and feeds on thistles. Our author's meaning, I presume, is A creature bipes et implumis; Wherein the moralist design'd A compliment on humankind: For here he owns, that now and then Beasts may degenerate into men.

HAT you, friend Marcus, like a stoick, Can wish to die in strains heroick, No real fortitude implies: Yet, all must own, thy wish is wise. Thy curate's place, thy fruitful wife, Thy busy, drudging scene of life, Thy insolent, illiterate vicar, Thy want of all-consoling liquor, Thy threadbare gown, thy cassock rent, Thy credit sunk, thy money spent, Thy week made up of fastingdays, Thy grate unconscious of a blaze, And,