Page:The Works of the Rev. Jonathan Swift, Volume 8.djvu/91

Rh If in her coach she'll condescend To place him at the hinder end, Her hoop is hoist above his nose, His odious gown would soil her clothes, And drops him at the church, to pray, While she drives on to see the play. He, like an orderly divine, Comes home a quarter after nine, And meets her hasting to the ball: Her chairman push him from the wall. He enters in, and walks up stairs, And calls the family to prayers; Then goes alone to take his rest In bed, where he can spare her best. At five the footmen make a din, Her ladyship is just come in; The masquerade began at two, She stole away with much ado; And shall be chid this afternoon, For leaving company so soon: She'll say, and she may truly say't, She can't abide to stay out late. But now, tho' scarce a twelvemonth married, Poor lady Jane has thrice miscarried: The cause, alas, is quickly guest; The town has whisper'd round the jest. Think on some remedy in time, You find his reverence past his prime, Already dwindled to a lath; No other way but try the Bath. For Venus, rising from the ocean, Infus'd a strong prolifick potion, That mix'd with Acheloüs' spring, The horned flood, as poets sing,. VIII.