ference given by him to her rival. However, upon her return to Dublin, a reconciliation soon took place. He welcomed her to town in that beautiful poem, called "Stella at Wood Park," in which he indulged his usual vein of raillery, but concludes with a high compliment to Stella:
For though my raillery were true,
A cottage is Wood Park with you.
He had an opportunity not long after of showing that he was sincere in this declaration, as he passed a whole summer with her at Quilca, in as inconvenient a cabin, and as dreary a country as could any where be met with: and yet he often declared that they were some of the happiest hours of his life which he thus passed. They were indeed some of the last in which he had any enjoyment in her society, as she soon after fell into a decline, attended with such symptoms as afforded little prospect of any long continuance of life. The first account of her state being desperate reached Swift in London, as was before related. The following extracts from his letter to Dr. Sheridan on the occasion will best show with what agonies of mind he received it.
"I have yours just now of the 19th, and the account you give me, is nothing but what I have some time expected with the utmost agonies. It was at this time the best office your friendship could do, not to deceive me. I look upon this to be the greatest event that can ever happen to me, but all my preparations will not suffice to make me bear it like a philosopher, nor altogether like a Christian. There has been the most intimate friendship between us from her childhood, and the
