Page:The Works of the Rev. Jonathan Swift, Volume 8.djvu/68

58 Of brethren he's a false accuser; A slanderer, traitor, and seducer; A fawning, base, trepanning liar; The marks peculiar of his sire. Or, grant him but a drone at best; A drone can raise a hornet's nest. The dean had felt their stings before; And must their malice ne'er give o'er? Still swarm and buzz about his nose? But Ireland's friends ne'er wanted foes. A patriot is a dangerous post, When wanted by his country most; Perversely comes in evil times, Where virtues are imputed crimes. His guilt is clear, the proofs are pregnant; A traitor to the vices regnant. What spirit, since the world began, Could always bear to strive with man? Which God pronounc'd, he never would, And soon convinc'd them by a flood. Yet still the dean on freedom raves; His spirit always strives with slaves. 'Tis time at last to spare his ink, And let them rot, or hang, or sink.

RAULUS, of amphibious breed, Motley fruit of mungrel seed; By the dam from lordlings sprung, By the sire exhal'd from dung: Think