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On The Church's Danger Post by :meleemel Category :Poems Author :Jonathan Swift Date :August 2011 Read :1703

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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.
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.

(The end)
Jonathan Swift's poem: On The Church's Danger

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A Poem On High Church A Poem On High Church

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 resignTheir flasks of French wine, And spice up their Nottingham ale.It purges the spleenOf dislike to the queen, And has one effect that is odder;When easement they use,They always will chuse The Conformity Bill for bumfodder.(The end)Jonathan Swift's poem: Poem On High Church

The Fable Of The Bitches The Fable Of The Bitches

The Fable Of The Bitches
(1)WRITTEN IN THE YEAR 1715, ON AN ATTEMPT TO REPEAL THE TEST ACTA bitch, that was full pregnant grownBy all the dogs and curs in town,Finding her ripen'd time was come,Her litter teeming from her womb,Went here, and there, and everywhere,To find an easy place to lay her. At length to Music's house(2) she came,And begg'd like one both blind and lame;"My only friend, my dear," said she,"You see 'tis mere necessityHath sent me to your house to whelp:I die if you refuse your help." With fawning whine, and rueful tone,With artful sigh, and feigned groan,With couchant cringe, and