POEMS Occasion'd by Reading the
TRAVELS
OF Captain
Lemuel Gulliver,
EXPLANATORY AND COMMENDATORY.
DUBLIN:
Printed by and for J. HYDE, Bookseller in
Dame
's-
Street,
1727.
TO
QVƲ INBƲ S FLESTRIN
THE Man-Mountain.
AN ODE.
By TITTY TITT,
Esq
Poet-Laureat to his Majesty of LILLIPUT.
Translated into ENGLISH.
I.
I N amaze
Lost, I gaze!
Can our Eyes
Reach thy Size?
May my Lays
Swell with Praise
Worthy thee!
Worthy me!
Muse inspire,
All thy Fire!
Bards of old
Of him told,
When they said
Atlas
Head
Propt the Skies:
See and believe your Eyes!
II.
See him stride
Vallies wide:
Over Woods,
Over Floods.
When he treads,
Mountains Heads
Groan and shake;
Armies quake,
Lest his Spurn
Overturn
Man and Steed:
Troops take heed!
Left and Right,
Speed your Flight!
Lest an Host
Beneath his Foot be lost.
III.
Turn'd aside
From his Hide,
Safe from Wound
Darts rebound.
From his Nose
Clouds he blows;
When he speaks,
Thunder breaks!
When he eats,
Famine threats;
When he drinks,
Neptune
shrinks!
Nigh thy Ear,
In Mid Air,
On thy Hand
Let me stand,
So shall I,
Lofty Poet, touch the Sky.
THE LAMENTATION Of
Glumdalclitch
for the Loss of
Grildrig.
A PASTORAL.
S OON as
Glumdalclitch
mist her pleasing Care,
She wept, she blubber'd, and she tore her Hair.
No
British
Miss sincerer Grief has known,
Her Squirrel missing, or her Sparrow flown.
She furl'd her Sampler, and hawl'd in her Thread,
And stuck her Needle into
Grildrig
's Bed;
Then spread her Hands, and with a Bounce let fall
Her Baby, like the Giant in
Guild-hall.
In Peals of Thunder, now she roars, and now
She gently whimpers like a lowing Cow.
Yet lovely in her Sorrow still appears:
Her Locks dishevell'd, and her Flood of Tears
Seem like the lofty Barn of some rich Swain,
When from the Thatch drips fast a Shower of Rain.
In v
n she search'd each Cranny of the House,
Each gaping Chink impervious to a Mouse.
" Was it for this (she cry'd) with daily Care
" Within thy reach I set the Vinegar?
" And fill'd the Cruet with the acid Tide,
" While Pepper-Water-Worms thy Bait supply'd;
" Where twin'd the Silver Eel around thy Hook,
" And all the little Monsters of the Brook.
" Sure in that Lake he dropt—My
Grilly
's drown'd.
She dragg'd the Cruet, but no
Grildrig
found.
" Vain is thy Courage,
Grilly,
vain thy Boast,
" But little Creatures enterprise the most.
" Trembling, I've seen thee dare the Kitten's Paw;
" Nay, mix with Children, as they play'd at Taw;
" Nor fear the Marbles, as they bounding flew:
" Marbles to them, but rolling Rocks to you.
" Why did I trust thee with that giddy Youth?
" Who from a
Page
can ever learn the Truth?
" Vers'd in Court Tricks, that Money-loving Boy
" To some Lord's Daughter sold the living Toy;
" Or rent him Limb from Limb in cruel Play,
" As Children tear the Wings of Flies away:
" From Place to Place o'er
Brobdingnag
I'll roam,
" And never will return, or bring thee home.
" But who hath Eyes to trace the passing Wind,
" How then thy fairy Footsteps can I find?
" Dost thou bewildred wander all alone,
" In the green Thicket of a Mossy Stone,
" Or tumbled from the Toadstool's slipp'ry Round,
" Perhaps all maim'd, lie groveling on the Ground?
" Dost thou, imbosom'd in the lovely Rose,
" Or sunk within the Peach's Down, repose?
" Within the King-Cup if thy Limbs are spread,
" Or in the golden Cowslip's velvet Head;
" O shew me,
Flora,
'midst those Sweets, the Flower
" Where sleeps my
Grildrig
in the fragrant Bower▪
" But ah! I fear thy little Fancy roves
" On little Females, and on little Loves;
" Thy pigmy Children, and thy tiny Spouse,
" The Baby Playthings that adorn thy House,
" Doors, Windows, Chimneys, and the spacious Rooms
" Equal in Size to Cells of Honeycombs.
" Hast thou for these now ventur'd from the Shore,
" Thy Bark a Bean-shell, and a Straw thy Oar?
" Or in thy Box, now bounding on the Main?
" Shall I ne'er bear thy self and House again?
" And shall I see thee on my Hand no more,
" To see thee leap the Lines, and traverse o'er
" My spacious Palm? of Stature scarce a Span,
" Mimick the Actions of a real Man?
" No more behold thee turn my Watches Key,
" As Seamen at a Capstern Anchors weigh?
" How wert thou wont to walk with cautious Tread,
" A Dish of Tea like Milk-Pale on thy Head?
" How chase the Mite that bore thy Cheese away,
" And keep the rolling Maggot at a Bay?
She spoke; but broken Accents stopt her Voice,
Soft as the speaking Trumpets mellow Noise:
She sob'd a Storm, and wip'd her flowing Eyes,
Which seem'd like two broad Suns in misty Skies:
O! squander not thy Grief, those Tears command
To weep upon our Cod in
Newfound-Land:
The plenteous Pickle shall preserve the Fish,
And
Europe
taste thy Sorrows in her Dish.
TO Mr.
Lemuel Gulliver,
The Grateful ADDRESS of the Unhappy HOUYHNHNMS, now in Slavery and Bondage in
England.
T O thee, we Wretches of the
Houhnhnm
Band,
Condemn'd to labour in a barb'rous Land,
Return our Thanks. Accept our humble Lays,
And let each grateful
Houyhnhnm
neigh thy Praise.
O happy
Yahoo,
purg'd from human Crimes,
By thy sweet Sojourn in those virtuous Climes,
Where reign our Sires! There, to thy Countrey's Shame,
Reason, you found, and Virtue were the same.
Their Precepts raz'd the Prejudice of Youth,
And even a
Yahoo
learn'd the Love of Truth.
Art thou the first who did the Coast explore;
Did never
Yahoo
tread that Ground before?
Yes Thousands. But in Pity to their Kind,
Or sway'd by Envy, or through Pride of Mind,
They hid their Knowledge of a nobler Race,
Which own'd, would all their Sires and Sons disgrace.
You, like the
Samian,
visit Lands unknown,
And by their wiser Morals mend your own.
Thus
Orpheus
travell'd to reform his Kind,
Came back, and tam'd the Brutes he left behind.
You went, you saw, you heard: With Virtue fought,
Then spread those Morals which the
Houyhnhnms
taught.
Our Labours here must touch thy gen'rous Heart,
To see us strain before the Coach and Cart;
Compell'd to run each knavish Jockey's Heat!
Subservient to
New-market
's annual Cheat!
With what Reluctance do we Lawyers bear,
To fleece their Countrey Clients twice a Year?
Or manag'd in your Schools, for Fops to ride,
How foam, how fret beneath a Load of Pride!
Yes, we are Slaves—but yet, by Reason's Force,
Have learnt to bear Misfortune, like a Horse.
O would the Stars, to ease my Bonds, ordain,
That gentle
Gulliver
might guide my Rein!
Safe would I bear him to his Journey's End,
For 'tis a Pleasure to support a Friend.
But if my Life be doom'd to serve the Bad,
O! may'st thou never want an easy Pad!
MARY GƲ LLIVER
TO Capt.
Lemuel Gulliver;
AN EPISTLE
The Captain some time after his Return, being retir'd to Mr. Sympson's in the Countrey, Mrs. Gulliver, apprehending from his late Behaviour some Estrangement of his Affections, writes him the following expostulating, soothing, and tenderly-complaing EPISTLE.
W ELCOME, thrice welcome to thy native Place!
—What, touch me not? what,
shun a wife's Embrace?
Have I for this thy tedious Absence born,
And wak'd and wish'd whole Nights for thy Return?
In five long Years I took no second Spouse;
What
Redriff
Wife so long hath kept her Vows?
Your Eyes, your Nose, Inconstancy betray;
Your Nose you stop, your Eyes you turn away.
'Tis said, that thou shouldst
cleave unto thy Wife
;
Once
thou
didst cleave, and
I
could cleave for Life.
Hear and relent! hark, how thy Children moan;
Be kind at least to these, they are thy own:
Behold, and count them all; secure to find
The honest Number that you left behind.
See how they pat thee with their pretty Paws:
Why start you? are they Snakes? or have they Claws?
Thy Christian Seed, our mutual Flesh and Bone:
Be kind at least to these, they are thy own.
Biddel
like thee, might farthest
India
rove;
He chang'd his Countrey, but retain'd his Love.
There's Captain
Pannel,
absent half his Life,
Comes back, and is the kinder to his Wife.
Yet
Pannel
's Wife is brown, compar'd to me,
And Mistress
Biddel
sure is Fifty three.
Not touch me! never Neighbour call'd me Slut!
Was
Flimnap
's Dame more sweet in
Lilliput?
I've no red Hair to breath an odious Fume;
At least thy Consort's cleaner than thy
Groom.
Why then that dirty Stable-boy thy Care?
What mean those Visits to the
Sorrel Mare?
Say, by what Witchcraft, or what Daemon led,
Preferr'st thou
Litter
to the Marriage Bed?
Some say the Dev'l himself is in that
Mare
:
If so, our
Dean
shall drive him forth by Prayer.
Some think you mad, some think you are possest,
That
Bedlam
and clean Straw would suit you best:
Vain means, alas, this Frenzy to appease!
That
Straw,
that
Straw
would heighten the Disease.
My Bed, (the Scene of all our former Joys,
Witness two lovely Girls, two lovely Boys)
Alone I press; in Dreams I call my Dear,
I stretch my Hand; no
Gulliver
is there!
I wake, I rise, and shiv'ring with the Frost,
Search all the House; my
Gulliver
is lost!
Forth in the Street I rush with frantick Cries;
The Windows open; all the Neighbours rise:
Where sleeps my
Gulliver?
O tell me where?
The Neighbours answer, "
With the Sorrel Mare.
At early Morn, I to the Market haste,
(Studious in ev'ry thing to please thy Taste)
A curious
Fowl
and
Sparagrass
I chose,
(For I remember'd you were fond of those)
Three Shillings cost the first, the last sev'n Groats;
Sullen you turn'd from both, and call'd for
Oats.
Others bring Goods and Treasures to their Houses.
Something to deck their pretty Babes and Spouses;
My
only
Token was a Cup like Horn,
That's made of nothing but a Lady's
Corn.
'Tis not for that I grieve; O, 'tis to see
The
Groom
and
Sorrel Mare
prefer'd to me!
These for some Moments when you deign to quit,
And (at due distance) sweet Discourse admit,
'Tis all my Pleasure thy past Toil to know,
For pleas'd Remembrance builds Delight on Woe.
At ev'ry Danger pants thy Consort's Breast,
And gaping Infants squawle to hear the rest.
How did I tremble, when by Tousands bound,
I saw thee stretch'd on
Lilliputian
Ground;
When scaling Armies climb'd up ev'ry 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 extinguish'd theirs, encreas'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 sign'd thy Death, he sentenc'd me.
When Folks might see thee all the Country round
For Six pence, I'd have giv'n a Thousand pound.
Lord! when the
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 rid,
Pray Heav'n, 'twas all a wanton Maiden did!
Glumdalclitch
too!—with thee I mourn her Case,
Heav'n 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 set 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 wooe thee by thy best-lov'd Name!
Whether the Stile of
Grildrig
please thee most,
So call'd on
Brobdingnag
's stupendious Coast,
When on the Monarch's ample Hand you sate,
And hollow'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
Nardae, Lilliputian
Peer,
Or
Glumglum
's humbler Title sooth thy Ear;
Nay, would kind
Jove
my Organs so dispose,
To hymn harmonious
Houyhnhnm
thro' the Nose,
I'd call thee
Houyhnhnm,
that high sounding Name,
Thy Children's Noses all should twang the same.
So might I find my loving Spouse of course
Endu'd with all the
Virtues
of a
Horse.
FINIS.