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How did I tremble when, by thousands bound,
I saw thee stretch'd on Lilliputian ground;
When scaling armies climb’d up every part,
Each step they trod I felt upon my heart.
But, when thy torrent quench'd the dreadful blaze,
King, queen, and nation, staring with amaze,
Full in my view how all my husband came !
And what extinguth'd theirs, increas'd my flame.
Those spectacles, ordain'd thine eyes to save,
Were once my present ; Love that armour gave.
How did I mourn at Bolgolam's decree !
For, when he fign'd thy death, he sentenc'd me.

When folks might see thee all the country round
For fix-pence, I'd have given a thousand pound.
Lord I'when that giant babe that head of thine
Got in his mouth, my heart was up in mine!
When in the marrow-bone I see thee ramm’d,
Or on the house-top by the monkey cramm’d,
The piteous images renew my pain,
And all thy dangers I weep o'er again.
But on the maiden's nipple when you rici,
Pray Heaven 'twas all a wanton maiden did !
Glumdalclitch too!-with thee I mourn her case :
Heaven guard the gentle girl from all disgrace!
O may the king that one neglect forgive,
And pardon her the fault by which I live!
Was there no other way to fet him free?
My life, alas ! I fear, prov'd death to thee.

O teach me, Dear, new words to speak my flame! Teach me to woo thee by thy belt-lov’d name.


Whether the style of Grildrig please thee mort,
So call'd on Brobdingnag's ftupendous coast,
When on the monarch's ample hand you sate,
And halloo'd in his ear intrigues of state ;
Or Quinbus Flestrin more endearment brings,
When like a mountain you look'd down on kings;
If ducal Nardac, Lilliputian peer,
Or Glumblum's humbler title footh thy ear;
Nay, would kind Jove my organs fo dispose,
To hymn harmonious Houyhnhom through the noče,
I'd call thee Houyhnhnm, that high-founding name,
Thy children's noses all should twang the same.
So might I find my loving spouse of course
Erdued with all the virtues of a horse.


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thee, sweet Fop, these lines I fend,

Who, though no spaniel, am a friend..
Though once my tail in wanton play,
Now frisking this and then that way,
Chanc'd, with a touch of just the tip,
To hurt your lady-lap-dog-thip;
Yet thence to think I'd bite your head off ;;
Sure Bounce is one you never read of.

Fop! you can dance, and make a leg,
Can fetch and carry, cringe and beg;
And (what's the top

tricks) Can stoop to pick up strings and sticks. We country dogs love nobler sport, And scorn the pranks of dogs at court. Fie, naughty Fop! where'er you come To fart and piss about the room,

of all your


To lay your head in every lap,
And when they think not of you—inap:
The worst that envy, or that spite,
E’er said of me is, I can bite ;
That sturdy vagrants, rogues in rags,
Who poke at me, can make no brags;
And that to touze such things as flutter,
To honest Bounce is bread and butter.

While you and every courtly fop
Fawn on the devil for a chop;
I've the humanity to hate
A butcher, though he brings me meat :
And, let me tell you, have a nose
(Whatever stinking fops suppose)
That, under cloth of gold or tissue,
Can smell a plaster, or illue.
Your pilfering lord, with simple pride,
May wear a pick-lock at his fide :
My master wants no key of state,
For Bounce can keep his house and gate.

When all such dogs have had their days,
As knavilh Pams, and fawning Trays :
When pamper'd Cupids, beastly Venis,
And motley, squinting Harlequini's *,
Shall lick no more their lady's breech,
But die of looseness, claps, or itch ;
Fair Thames from either echoing shore
Shall hear and dread my manly roar.

* Alii legunt Harvequini's.



See Bounce, like Berecynthia crown'd
With thundering offspring all around,
Beneath, beside me, and at top,
A hundred sons ! and not one Fop.
Before children set your beef,
Not one true Bounce will be a thief;
Not one without permission feed
(Though some of J-'s hungry breed);
But whatsoe'er the father's race,
From me they suck a little grace:

your fine whelps learn all to steal, Bred up by hand on chick and veal.

My eldest-born resides not far
Where shines great Strafford's glittering star ;
My second (child of fortune !) waits.
At Burlington's Palladian gates ;
A third majestically stalks
(Happiest of dogs) in Cobham's walks !
One ushers friends to Bathurst's door,
One fawns at Oxford's on the poor.

Nobles, whom arms or arts adorn,
Wait for my infants yet unborn.
None but a peer of wit and grace
Can hope a puppy

And, oh! would fate the bliss decree
To mine (a bliss too great for me),
That two my tallest fons might grace
Attending each with stately pace
lülus' fide, as erst Evander's *,
To keep off hatterers, spies, and panders ;

* Virg. Æn. viii.

my race,


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