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PDFWhere, you have told us from experience,
Are swarms of bugs and presbyterians.
I thought my very spleen would burst,
When fortune hither drove me first;
Was full as hard to please as you,
Nor persons’ names nor places knew:
But now I act as other folk,
Like prisoners when their gaol is broke.
If you have London still at heart,
We’ll make a small one here by art;
The difference is not much between
St. James’s Park and Stephen’s Green;
And Dawson Street will serve as well
To lead you thither as Pall Mall.
Nor want a passage through the palace,
To choke your sight, and raise your malice.
The Deanery-house may well be match’d,
Under correction, with the Thatch’d.[2]
Nor shall I, when you hither come,
Demand a crown a-quart for stum.
Then for a middle-aged charmer,
Stella may vie with your Mounthermer;[3]
She’s now as handsome every bit,
And has a thousand times her wit
The Dean and Sheridan, I hope,
Will half supply a Gay and Pope.
Corbet,[4] though yet I know his worth not,
No doubt, will prove a good Arbuthnot.
I throw into the bargain Tim;
In London can you equal him?
What think you of my favourite clan,
Robin[5] and Jack, and Jack and Dan;
Fellows of modest worth and parts,
With cheerful looks and honest hearts?
Can you on Dublin look with scorn?
Yet here were you and Ormond born.
O! were but you and I so wise,
To see with Robert Grattan’s eyes!
Robin adores that spot of earth,
That literal spot which gave him birth;
And swears, “Belcamp[6] is, to his taste,
As fine as Hampton-court at least.”
When to your friends you would enhance
The praise of Italy or France,
For grandeur, elegance, and wit,
We gladly hear you, and submit;
But then, to come and keep a clutter,
For this or that side of a gutter,
To live in this or t’other isle,
We cannot think it worth your while;
For, take it kindly or amiss,
The difference but amounts to this,
We bury on our side the channel
In linen; and on yours in flannel.[7]
You for the news are ne’er to seek;
While we, perhaps, may wait a week;
You happy folks are sure to meet
A hundred whores in every street;
While we may trace all Dublin o’er
Before we find out half a score.
You see my arguments are strong,
I wonder you held out so long;
But, since you are convinced at last,
We’ll pardon you for what has past.
So—let us now for whist prepare;
Twelve pence a corner, if you dare.
Are swarms of bugs and presbyterians.
I thought my very spleen would burst,
When fortune hither drove me first;
Was full as hard to please as you,
Nor persons’ names nor places knew:
But now I act as other folk,
Like prisoners when their gaol is broke.
If you have London still at heart,
We’ll make a small one here by art;
The difference is not much between
St. James’s Park and Stephen’s Green;
And Dawson Street will serve as well
To lead you thither as Pall Mall.
Nor want a passage through the palace,
To choke your sight, and raise your malice.
The Deanery-house may well be match’d,
Under correction, with the Thatch’d.[2]
Nor shall I, when you hither come,
Demand a crown a-quart for stum.
Then for a middle-aged charmer,
Stella may vie with your Mounthermer;[3]
She’s now as handsome every bit,
And has a thousand times her wit
The Dean and Sheridan, I hope,
Will half supply a Gay and Pope.
Corbet,[4] though yet I know his worth not,
No doubt, will prove a good Arbuthnot.
I throw into the bargain Tim;
In London can you equal him?
What think you of my favourite clan,
Robin[5] and Jack, and Jack and Dan;
Fellows of modest worth and parts,
With cheerful looks and honest hearts?
Can you on Dublin look with scorn?
Yet here were you and Ormond born.
O! were but you and I so wise,
To see with Robert Grattan’s eyes!
Robin adores that spot of earth,
That literal spot which gave him birth;
And swears, “Belcamp[6] is, to his taste,
As fine as Hampton-court at least.”
When to your friends you would enhance
The praise of Italy or France,
For grandeur, elegance, and wit,
We gladly hear you, and submit;
But then, to come and keep a clutter,
For this or that side of a gutter,
To live in this or t’other isle,
We cannot think it worth your while;
For, take it kindly or amiss,
The difference but amounts to this,
We bury on our side the channel
In linen; and on yours in flannel.[7]
You for the news are ne’er to seek;
While we, perhaps, may wait a week;
You happy folks are sure to meet
A hundred whores in every street;
While we may trace all Dublin o’er
Before we find out half a score.
You see my arguments are strong,
I wonder you held out so long;
But, since you are convinced at last,
We’ll pardon you for what has past.
So—let us now for whist prepare;
Twelve pence a corner, if you dare.
[Footnote 1: Dr. Swift had been used to celebrate the birth-day of his friend Charles Ford, which was on the first day of January. See also the poem, “Stella at Wood Park.”—Dr. Delany mentions also, among the Dean’s intimate friends, “Matthew Ford, Esq., a man of family and fortune, a fine gentleman, and the best lay scholar of his time and nation.”—Nichols.]
