Page:The Works of the Rev. Jonathan Swift, Volume 7.djvu/122

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SWIFT'S POEMS.

Through nature and through art she rang'd,
And gracefully her subject chang'd;355
In vain! her hearers had no share
In all she spake, except to stare.
Their judgment was, upon the whole,
— That lady is the dullest soul! —
Then tipt their forehead in a jeer,360
As who should say — She wants it here!
She may be handsome, young, and rich,
But none will burn her for a witch!
A party next of glittering dames,
From round the purlieus of St. James,365
Came early, out of pure good will,
To see the girl in dishabille.
Their clamour, 'lighting from their chairs,
Grew louder all the way up stairs;
At entrance loudest, where they found370
The room with volumes litter'd round.
Vanessa held Montaigne, and read,
While Mrs. Susan comb'd her head.
They call'd for tea and chocolate,
And fell into their usual chat,375
Discoursing with important face,
On ribands, fans, and gloves, and lace;
Show'd patterns just from India brought,
And gravely ask'd her what she thought,
Whether the red or green were best,380
And what they cost! Vanessa guess'd,
As came into her fancy first;
Nam'd half the rates, and lik'd the worst.
To scandal next — What awkward thing
Was that last Sunday in the ring!385
I'm sorry Mopsa breaks so fast:

I said, her face would never last.

Corinna,