We have heard with much transport and great

satisfaction

Of the victory obtained in the late famous action, When the field was so warm'd, that it soon grew too hot

For the French and Bavarians, who had all gone

to pot,

But that they thought best in great haste to re

tire,

And leap into the water for fear of the fire.

But says the good river, Ye fools, plague confound ye,

Do

ye think to swim thro' me, and that I'll not drown ye?

Who have ravish'd, and murder'd, and play'd such damn'd pranks,

And trod down the grass on my much-injured

banks?

Then, swelling with anger and rage to the brink, He gave the poor Monsieur his last draught of

drink.

So it plainly appears they were very well bang'd, And that some may be drown'd, who deserved to be hang'd.

Great Marlbro' well push'd: 'twas well push'd indeed:

Oh, how we adore you, because you succeed! And now I may say it, I hope without blushing, That you have got twins, by your violent pushing;

Twin battles I mean, that will ne'er be forgotten, But live and be talk'd of, when we're dead and rotten.

Let other nice lords sculk at home from the wars, Prank'd up and adorned with garters and stars,

Which but twinkle like those in a cold frosty night;

While to yours you are adding such lustre and light,

That if you proceed, I'm sure very soon

"Twill be brighter and larger than the sun or the

moon:

A blazing star, I foretell, 'twill prove to the Gaul, That portends of his empire the ruin and fall. Now God bless your Majesty, and our Lord Murrough,

**

And send him in safety and health to his burrough.

WHEN

The Garden-plot. 1709.

HEN Naboth's vineyard † look'd so fine, The king cried out, "Would this were mine!" And yet no reason could prevail

To bring the owner to a sale.
Jezebel saw with haughty pride,
How Ahab grieved to be denied;
And thus accosted him with scorn:
Shall Naboth make a Monarch mourn?

* Murrough (or Morrough) Boyle, the first Viscount Blessington, who died in April, 1718.

+ This seems to allude to some oppressive procedure of the Earl of Wharton. There is, Dr Barrett remarks, a story something si milar in the case of Mr Proby, surgeon-general of Ireland. Swift had a garden which he used to call Naboth's vineyard.

A King, and weep! The ground's your own;
I'll vest the garden in the crown.

With that she hatch'd a plot, and made,
Poor Naboth answer with his head;
And when his harmless blood was spilt,
The ground became his forfeit guilt.
Poor Hall, renown'd for comely hair,
Whose hands perhaps were not so fair,
Yet had a Jezebel as near;

Hall, of small scripture conversation,
Yet, howe'er Hungerford's quotation,
By some strange accident had got
The story of this garden-plot ;-
Wisely foresaw he might have reason
To dread a modern bill of treason,
If Jezebel should please to want
His small addition to her grant:
Therefore resolved in humble sort
To begin first, and make his court;
And, seeing nothing else would do,
Gave a third part, to save the other two.

On the Church's Danger.*

GOOD Halifax and pious Wharton cry, "The Church has vapours; there's no danger nigh.' In those we love not, we no danger see,

And were they hang'd, there would no danger be.

This and the following piece are from the Lanesborough MS. They bear strong marks of Swift's style.

But we must silent be, amidst our fears,
And not believe our senses, but the Peers.
So ravishers, that know no sense of shame,
First stop her mouth, and then debauch the dame.

A Poem on High Church.

HIGH Church is undone,

As sure as a gun,

For old Peter Patch is departed;

And Eyres and Delaune,

And the rest of that spawn,

Are tacking about broken-hearted.

For strong Gill of Sarum,

That decoctum amarum,

Has prescribed a dose of cant-fail;

Which will make them resign

Their flasks of French wine,

It

And spice up their Nottingham ale.

purges

the spleen

Of dislike to the queen,

And has one effect that is odder;

When easement they use,

They always will choose

The Conformity Bill for bumfodder.

The famous Speech-maker of England, or Baron (alias Barren) Lovel's Charge* at the Assizes at Exon, April 5, 1710.

[Of the authenticity of this production there cannot be the slightest doubt. It is not only in the manner of Swift, but in his very best and most characteristic style of irony.]

Risum teneatis?

FROM London to Exon,

By special direction,

Came down the world's wonder,

Sir Salathiel Blunder,

With a quoif on his head

As heavy as lead;

And thus open'd and said:

Gentlemen of the Grand Inquest,

Her majesty, mark it,
Appointed this circuit
For me and my brother,
Before any other;
To execute laws,

As you may suppose,

Upon such as offenders have been.

So then, not to scatter

More words on the matter,

We're beginning just now to begin.

* See the original charge in the Examiner, 1745, No. I. p. 55. -Sir Salathiel Lovel died May 3, 1717.