Page:The Works of the Rev. Jonathan Swift, Volume 7.djvu/67

Then call in Mercury for aid,
And cure the wounds that Venus made.
Great scholars have in Lucian read,
When Philip king of Greece was dead,
His soul and spirit did divide,
And each part took a different side:
One rose a star; the other fell
Beneath, and mended shoes in Hell.
Thus Partridge still shines in each art,
The cobbling and stargazing part,
And is install'd as good a star
As any of the Cæsars are.
Triumphant star! some pity show
On cobblers militant below,
Whom roguish boys, in stormy nights,
Torment by pissing out their lights,
Or through a chink convey their smoke,
Inclos'd artificers to choke.
Thou, high exalted in thy sphere,
Mayst follow still thy calling there.
To thee the Bull will lend his hide;
By Phœbus newly tann'd and dry'd:
For thee they Argo's hulk will tax,
And scrape her pitchy sides for wax:
Then Ariadne kindly lends
Her braided hair to make thee ends;
The points of Sagittarius' dart
Turns to an awl by heavenly art;
And Vulcan, wheedled by his wife,
Will forge for thee a paring knife.
For want of room by Virgo's side,
She'll strain a point, and sit astride.
To take thee kindly in between;
And then the signs will be thirteen.