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With Water who the Wilderness fupplies ?
And tell me whence the Midnight Dews arise ?
Or from what cold and petrifying Womb,
The Ice and nipping hoary Frost does come?
What secret Pow'rs its fuid Parts cement,
Congeal and harden the soft Element ?
All stiff and motionless the frozen Deep,
No curling Winds its shining Surface sweep.
Canst thou the cheering Influences Stay
Of those mild Stars which deck the Spring so gay?
Or loose the fullen Planet's icy Bands,
Which Frosts, and rough tempestuous Winds,
Do all the shining, vast Machines above,
By thy Contrivance in such Order move?
If som -ftill thy Divinity to prove,
Set open now the Flood-gates of the Sky,
And call a mighty Deluge from on high ;
Kindle prodigious Lightnings, and command
The burning Flashes with a daring Hand,
I'll then confess thou haft an Arm like me,
And that thine own Right-Hand can succour thee:
These Lines were wrote by JONATHAN
Swift, D. D. and Dean of St. Patrick's,
Dublin, in the Year 1731.
HE Time is not remote when I
Must by the Course of Nature die;
When I foresee my special Friends
Will try to find their private Ends ;
Altho'tis hardly understood,
Which way my Death can do them good.
Yet thus methinks, I hear 'em speak,
See how the Dean begins to break:
Poor Gentleman! he droops apace ;
You find it plainly in his Face :
That old Vertigo in his Head
Will never leave him till he's dead :
Befides his Memory decays,
He recollects not what he says;
He cannot call his Friends to mind;
Forgets the Place where latt he din'd;
Plies you with Stories o'er and o'er :
He told them fifty Times before.
How does he fancy we can fit
To hear his out-of-fashion'd Wit?
But he takes up with younger Folks,
Who, for his Wine, will bear hi Jokes :
Faith, he must make his Stories shorter,
Or change his Comrades once a Quarter.
He hardly drinks a Pint of Wine,
And that I doubt is no good fign.
His Stomach too begins to fail :
Last year we thought him strong and hail ;
But, now, he's quite another Thing :
I wish he may hold out till Spring.
When daily How-do-yo's come of course,
And Servants answer, Worfe and worse,
Would please them better than to tell,
That, God be prais'd, the Dean is well.
Behold the fatal Day arrive :
How is the Dean? He's just alive.
Now the departing Pray'r is read,
He hardly breathes. The Dean is Dead.
Before the PassingBell began,
The News thro' half the Town has run:
From Dublin, soon to London, spread:
'Tis told at Court, The Dean is dead.
Kind Lady Suffolk, in the Spleen,
Runs laughing up to tell the Queen ;
The Queen fo gracious, mild and good,
Cries, Is he gone ? li's Time be fou'd.
Now Grub-street Wits are all employid;
The Town with Elegies are cloyd :
Some Paragraph in ev'ry Paper,
To bless the Dean, or curse the Draper.
My Female Friends, whose tender Hearts
Have better learn'd to a&t their Parts,
Receive the News in doleful Dumps,
The Dean is dead, and What is l'rumps ?
The Lord have Mercy on his Soul!
Ladies, I'll venture for the Vole.
Six Deans, they say, must bear the Pall,
I wish I knew wbat King to call.
Madam, your Husband will attend
The Fun'ral of so good a Friend ?
No, Madam, 'tis a shocking Sight,
And, he's engag'd To morrow Night.
My Lady Club would take it ill
If he should fail ber at Quadrille.
He lov'd the Dean..- I lead a Heart.
But, deareft Friends, you know, muj part.
His Time was come ; be ran bis Race:
We hope he's in a better Place,
Why shou'd we grieve that Friends fou'd die ;
Na Lofs more easy to supply.
One Year is paft, a diff'rent Scene,
No further mention of the Dean,
Who now, alas! no more is mift,
Than if he never did exift.
Where's now this Fav'rite of Apollo ?
Departed, and his Works must follow ;
Muft undergo the common Fate :
His kind of Wit is out of Date.
He never thought an Honour done him,
Because a Duke was proud to own him :
He'd rather flip afide, and chuse
To talk with Wits in dirty Shoes :
Despis'd the Fools with Stars and Garters,
So often seen carefling Chartres.
He never courted Men in Station,
Nor Persons had in Admiration.
Of no Man's Person was afraid,
Because he fought for no Man's Aid;
But fuccour'd Virtue in distress,
And seldom fail'd of good Success.
With Princes kept a due Decorum ;
But never stood in awe before 'em :
He follow'd David's Lesson juft,
" In Princes never put thy Trust."
Two Kingdoms, just as Faction led,
Had set a Price upon his Head;
But not a Traitor could be found
To sell him for fix hundred Pound,
Had he but spar'd his Tengue and Pen,
He might have rose like other Men:
But Pow'r was never in his Thought,
And Wealth he valu'd not a Groat.
He told an hundred pleasant Stories,
With all the Turns of Whigs and Tories :
Was chearful to his dying Day,
And Friends would let him have his Way:
He left the little Wealth he had
To build a House for Fools and mad;
And shew'd, by one fatyrick Touch,
No Nation wanted it so much.
That Kingdom he hath left a Debtor :
I wish they foon may get a better.
The Character of a True GentLEMAN. T
Servant, the World's Master, and his own Man: Juftice is his Búfiness, Study his Recreation, Content and Happiness his Reward; God is his Father, the Church his Mother, the Saints his Brethren, and Heaven his Inheritance ; Religion his Mistress, Justice and Loyalty her Ladies of Honour, Devotion his Chaplain, Prudence his Chamberlain, Sobriety his Batler, Temperance his Cook, Hospitality his House-keeper, Providence
his Steward, Charity his Treasurer ; Piety is Mistress of the House, and Discretion the Porter: Thus is his whole Family made up of Virtues, and he the true Master of the Family : He is neceffi. tated to take the World in his Way to Heaven ; but he walks through it as fast as he can, and all his Business by the way is to make himself and others happy. Take him all in two Words, he is a Man, and a Chriftian.
Think thine own Condition to be certainly the best, because God, in his Wisdom, sees it best for, thee: If thou hast not as much as others, yet thou hast that which is appointed for thee. In Heaven our Reward Mall be, not-according to the good Things we have received here ; but according to the good Works, which we have done here: At the reckoning Day, he will be accounted the wiseft Man, that has laid out his Time in good Duties, and his Treasure in good Works.
Q. What is related in History of the fix Ages of the World ?
A. The first Age, from the Creation to the Flood, endured, according to Eufebius and the Seventy-two Interpreters, 2242 Years. St. Auftin differs from them; his Opinion was, that it endured 2272 Years. The second Age, from Noah's Flood to the Birth of librabam, endured, according to the Seventy-two Interpreters, Eufebius, and the greatest Part of Writers, 942 Years. During this Age was built the Tower of Babel, the Empire of the Affyrians began, and the great City of Nineveh was built, which contained in Circuit three Days Journey. The third Age, from Abraham to David, endured 942
Years. During this Age, was the Peregrination of Abraham, the Beginning of the Amazons, Sodom and Gomorrab deltroy'd, Jofeph fold to the Egyptians,