Page:The Works of the Rev. Jonathan Swift, Volume 8.djvu/220

 With a passage left to creep in, And a hole above for peeping. Let them, when they once get in, Sell the nation for a pin; While they sit apicking straws, Let them rave at making laws; While they never hold their tongue, Let them dabble in their dung: Let them form a grand committee, How to plague and starve the city; Let them stare, and storm, and frown When they see a clergy-gown; Let them, ere they crack a louse, Call for th' orders of the house; Let them, with their gosling quills, Scribble senseless heads of bills; We may, while they strain their throats. Wipe our a—s with their votes. Let sir Tom, that rampant ass, Stuff his guts with flax and grass; But before the priest he fleeces, Tear the Bible all to pieces: At the parsons, Tom, halloo, boy, Worthy offspring of a shoeboy, Footman, traitor, vile seducer, Perjur'd rebel, brib'd accuser, Lay thy paltry privilege aside, Sprung from papists, and a regicide; Fall a working like a mole, Raise the dirt about your hole. Come, assist me, Muse obedient! Let us try some new expedient; Shift the scene for half an hour, Time and place are in thy power. Thither,