Page:The Works of the Rev. Jonathan Swift, Volume 8.djvu/231



N rainy days alone I dine Upon a chick and pint of wine. On rainy days I dine alone, And pick my chicken to the bone: But this my servants much enrages, No scraps remain to save board wages. In weather fine I nothing spend, But often spunge upon a friend: Yet, where he's not so rich as I, I pay my club, and so good b'ye.

OME buy my fine wares, Plumbs, apples, and pears, A hundred a penny, In conscience too many: Come, will you have any? My children are seven, I wish them in Heaven; My husband a sot, With his pipe and his pot, Not a farthing will gain them, And I must maintain them. ASPA-