[Footnote 2:  Sir Arthur Acheson, at whose seat this was written.]

[Footnote 3:  John, Lord Carteret, then Lord-lieutenant of Ireland, since Earl of Granville, in right of his mother.]

[Footnote 4:  The army in Ireland was lodged in strong buildings, called barracks.  See “Verses on his own Death,” and notes, vol. i, 247.—­W.  E. B.]

[Footnote 5:  A cant-word in Ireland for a poor country clergyman.]

[Footnote 6:  My lady’s waiting-woman.]

[Footnote 7:  Two of Sir Arthur’s managers.]

[Footnote 8:  Dr. Jinny, a clergyman in the neighbourhood.]

[Footnote 9:  Ovids, Plutarchs, Homers.]

[Footnote 10:  These four lines were added by Swift in his own copy of the Miscellanies, edit. 1732.—­W.  E. B.]

[Footnote 11:  Nicknames for my lady, see ante, pp. 94, 95.—­W.  E. B.]

DRAPIER’S-HILL.[1] 1730

We give the world to understand,
  Our thriving Dean has purchased land;
A purchase which will bring him clear
Above his rent four pounds a-year;
Provided to improve the ground,
He will but add two hundred pound;
And from his endless hoarded store,
To build a house, five hundred more. 
Sir Arthur, too, shall have his will,
And call the mansion Drapier’s-Hill;
That, when a nation, long enslaved,
Forgets by whom it once was saved;
When none the Drapier’s praise shall sing,
His signs aloft no longer swing,
His medals and his prints forgotten,
And all his handkerchiefs [2] are rotten,
His famous letters made waste paper,
This hill may keep the name of Drapier;
In spite of envy, flourish still,
And Drapier’s vie with Cooper’s-Hill.

[Footnote 1:  The Dean gave this name to a farm called Drumlach, which he took of Sir Arthur Acheson, whose seat lay between that and Market-Hill; and intended to build a house upon it, but afterwards changed his mind.]

[Footnote 2:  Medals were cast, many signs hung up, and handkerchiefs made, with devices in honour of the Dean, under the name of M. B. Drapier.  See “Verses on his own death,” vol. i.—­W.  E. B.]

THE DEAN’S REASONS

FOR NOT BUILDING AT DRAPIER’S-HILL

I will not build on yonder mount;
And, should you call me to account,
Consulting with myself, I find
It was no levity of mind. 
Whate’er I promised or intended,
No fault of mine, the scheme is ended;
Nor can you tax me as unsteady,
I have a hundred causes ready;
All risen since that flattering time,
When Drapier’s-Hill appear’d in rhyme. 
  I am, as now too late I find,
The greatest cully of mankind;
The lowest boy in Martin’s school
May turn and wind me like a fool. 
How could I form so wild a vision,
To seek, in deserts, Fields Elysian?