Page:The Works of the Rev. Jonathan Swift, Volume 7.djvu/276

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264
SWIFT'S POEMS.

With pungent pains on every side:
So Regulus in torments dy'd.
From thee our youth all virtues learn,
Dangers with prudence to discern;
And well thy scholars are endued
With temperance and with fortitude;
With patience, which all ills supports;
And secresy, the art of courts.
The glittering beau could hardly tell,
Without your aid, to read or spell;
But, having long conversed with you,
Knows how to write a billet-doux.
With what delight, methinks, I trace
Your blood in every noble race!
In whom thy features, shape, and mien,
Are to the life distinctly seen!
The Britons, once a savage kind,
By you were brighten'd and refin'd,
Descendants to the barbarous Huns,
With limbs robust, and voice that stuns:
But you have moulded them afresh,
Remov'd the tough superfluous flesh,
Taught them to modulate their tongues,
And speak without the help of lungs.
Proteus on you bestow'd the boon
To change your visage like the moon;
You sometimes half a face produce,
Keep t'other half for private use.
How fam'd thy conduct in the fight
With Hermes, son of Pleias bright!
Outnumber'd, half encompassed round,
You strove for every inch of ground;
Then, by a soldierly retreat,

Retir'd to your imperial seat.

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