182
SWIFT'S POEMS.
A hundred heads broke,
A hundred struck lame.
You churl, I'll maintain
My father built Lusk,
The castle of Slane,
And Carrick Drumrusk:
The earl of Kildare,
And Moynalta his brother,
As great as they are,
I was nurst by their mother[1].
Ask that of old madam;
She'll tell you who's who,
As far up as Adam,
She knows it is true.
Come down with that beam,
If cudgels are scarce,
A blow on the weam,
Or a kick on the a—se.
BROCADOES and damasks,and tabbies, and gauzes,
Are by Robert Ballentine lately brought over,
With forty things more: now hear what the law says,
Whoe'er will not wear them, is not the king's lover.
- ↑ It is the custom in Ireland to call nurses, foster-mothers; their husbands, foster-fathers; and their children, foster-brothers or foster-sisters; and thus the poorest claim kindred to the richest.
- ↑ Proposal for the universal Use of Irish Manufactures, for which Waters the printer was severely prosecuted.
Though
