Page:The Works of the Rev. Jonathan Swift, Volume 7.djvu/74

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62
SWIFT'S POEMS.

The doctor's family came by,
And little miss began to cry;
Give me that house in my own hand!
Then madam bade the chariot stand,
Call'd to the clerk, in manner mild,
Pray, reach that thing here to the child:
That thing, I mean, among the kale;
And here's to buy a pot of ale.
The clerk said to her, in a heat,
What! sell my master's country seat,
Where he comes every week from town!
He would not sell it for a crown.
Poh! fellow, keep not such a pother;
In half an hour thou 'lt make another.
Says Nancy[1], I can make for miss
A finer house ten times than this;
The dean will give me willow sticks,
And Joe my apron full of bricks.





THE VIRTUES


OF


SID HAMET THE MAGICIAN'S ROD.


1710.


THE rod was but a harmless wand,
While Moses held it in his hand;
But, soon as e'er he laid it down,
'Twas a devouring serpent grown.
Our great magician, Hamet Sid,
Reverses what the prophet did:

  1. The waiting-woman.

His