Jonathan Swift November 30, 1667 --October 19, 1745
Dublin born Jonathan Swift, remembered as a masterful satirist, wrote prose, poetry, essays, and political statements. An ordained Anglican minister, in 1713 he became Dean of St. Patrick's Cathedral, Dublin, a post he held until 1742.
On Snow
From Heaven I
fall, though from earth I begin,
No lady alive
can show such a skin.
I'm bright as an
angel, and light as a feather,
But heavy and
dark, when you squeeze me together.
Though candour and
truth in my aspect I bear,
Yet many poor
creatures I help to ensnare.
Though so much
of Heaven appears in my make,
The foulest
impressions I easily take.
My parent and I
produce one another,
The mother the
daughter, the daughter the mother.
An Echo
Never sleeping,
still awake,
Pleasing most
when most I speak;
The delight of
old and young,
Though I speak
without a tongue.
Nought but one
thing can confound me,
Many voices
joining round me;
Then I fret, and
rave, and gabble,
Like the
labourers of Babel.
Now I am a dog,
or cow,
I can bark, or I
can low;
I can bleat, or
I can sing,
Like the
warblers of the spring.
Let the lovesick
bard complain,
And I mourn the
cruel pain;
Let the happy
swain rejoice,
And I join my
helping voice:
Both are
welcome, grief or joy,
I with either
sport and toy.
Though a lady, I
am stout,
Drums and
trumpets bring me out:
Then I clash,
and roar, and rattle,
Join in all the
din of battle.
Jove, with all
his loudest thunder,
When I'm vext,
can't keep me under;
Yet so tender is
my ear,
That the lowest
voice I fear;
Much I dread the
courtier's fate,
When his merit's
out of date,
For I hate a
silent breath,
And a whisper is
my death.
Elegy Upon Tiger
Her dead lady's
joy and comfort,
Who departed
this life
The last day of March,
1727:
To the great joy
of Bryan
That his
antagonist is gone.
And is poor
Tiger laid at last so low?
O day of sorrow!
-Day of dismal woe!
Bloodhounds, or
spaniels, lap-dogs, 'tis all one,
When Death once
whistles -snap! -away they're gone.
See how she
lies, and hangs her lifeless ears,
Bathed in her
mournful lady's tears!
Dumb is her
throat, and wagless is her tail,
Doomed to the
grave, to Death's eternal jail!
In a few days
this lovely creature must
First turn to
clay, and then be changed to dust.
That mouth which
used its lady's mouth to lick
Must yield its
jaw-bones to the worms to pick.
That mouth which
used the partridge-wing to eat
Must give its
palate to the worms to eat.
Methinks I see
her now in Charon's boat
Bark at the
Stygian fish which round it float;
While Cerberus,
alarmed to hear the sound,
Makes Hell's
wide concave bellow all around.
She sees him
not, but hears him through the dark,
And valiantly
returns him bark for bark.
But now she
trembles -though a ghost, she dreads
To see a dog
with three large yawning heads.
Spare her, you
hell-hounds, case your frightful paws,
And let poor
Tiger 'scape your furious jaws.
Let her go safe
to the Elysian plains,
Where Hylax
barks among the Mantuan swains;
There let her
frisk about her new-found love:
She loved a dog
when she was here above.
The Epitaph
Here lies
beneath this marble
An animal could
bark, or warble:
Sometimes a
bitch, sometimes a bird,
Could eat a
tart, or eat a t -.
On Gold
All-ruling
tyrant of the earth,
To vilest slaves
I owe my birth,
How is the
greatest monarch blest,
When in my gaudy
livery drest!
No haughty nymph
has power to run
From me; or my
embraces shun.
Stabb'd to the
heart, condemn'd to flame,
My constancy is
still the same.
The favourite
messenger of Jove,
And Lemnian god,
consulting strove
To make me
glorious to the sight
Of mortals, and
the gods' delight.
Soon would their
altar's flame expire
If I refused to
lend them fire.
By fate exalted
high in place,
Lo, here I stand
with double face:
Superior none on
earth I find;
But see below me
all mankind
Yet, as it oft
attends the great,
I almost sink
with my own weight.
At every motion
undertook,
The vulgar all
consult my look.
I sometimes give
advice in writing,
But never of my
own inditing.
I am a courtier
in my way;
For those who
raised me, I betray;
And some give
out that I entice
To lust, to
luxury, and dice.
Who punishments
on me inflict,
Because they
find their pockets pickt.
By riding post,
I lose my health,
And only to get
others wealth.
