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Seem like the lofty barn of some rich swain,
When from the thatch drips fast a show'r of rain.
In vain she search'd each cranny of the house,
Each gaping chink, impervious to a mouse.
"Was it for this (she cried) 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 supplied;
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!

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Why did I trust thee with that giddy youth? Who from a page can ever learn the truth? Vers'd in court tricks, the 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, Ah 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 bewilder'd 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 grov'ling on the ground? Dost thou, embosom'd in the lovely rose, Or, sunk, within the peach's down, repose? Within the kingcup if thy limbs are spread, Or in the golden cowslip's velvet head,

O show me, Flora, 'midst those sweets, the flow'r Where sleeps my Grildrig in his fragrant bow'r!

"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, chimnies, 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 thine oar?
Or in thy box now bounding on the main,
Shall I ne'er bear thyself and house again?
And shall I set 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 capstan anchors weigh?

How wert thou wont to walk with cautious tread,
A dish of tea, like milkpail, on thy head?
How chase the mite that bore thy cheese away,
And keep the rolling maggot at a bay!"

She said; but broken accents stopt her voice,
Soft as the speaking trumpet's mellow noise:
She sobb'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 Newfoundland:
The plenteous pickle shall preserve the fish,
And Europe taste thy sorrows in a dish.





The captain, some time after his return, being retired to Mr. Sympson's in the country, Mrs. Gulliver, apprehending from his late behaviour, some estrangement of his affections, writes him the following expostulating, soothing, and tenderly com plaining epistle.

WELCOME, 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 should'st" 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;
Be bold, 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 country, but retain'd his love,
There's captain Pennel *, absent half his life,
Comes back, and is the kinder to his wife,

Names of the sea captains mentioned in Gulliver's Travels. H.

Yet Pennel's wife is brown, compar'd to me:
And Mrs. 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 breathe an odious fume;
At least thy consort's cleaner than thy groom.
Why then that dirty stableboy thy care?
What mean those visits to the sorrel mare:
Say, by what witchcraft, or what demon led,
Preferr'st thou litter to the marriage bed?

Some say, the devil himself is in that mare:
If so, our Dean shall drive him forth by pray'r.
Some think you mad, some think you are possest,
That Bedlam and clean straw will suit you best.
Vain means, alas, this frenzy to appease !
That straw, that straw, would heighten the diease.
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 'sparagus I chose
(For I remember you were fond of those)
Three shillings cost the first, the last seven groats;
Sullen you turn from both, and call for oats.
Others brings goods and treasure 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; no, 'tis to see
The groom and sorrel mare preferr'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 squall to hear the rest. 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 extinguish'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 sign'd thy death, he sentenc'd me. When folks might see thee all the country round For sixpence, I'd have given 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 marrowbone 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 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 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 woo thee by the best lov'd name! Whether the style of Grildrig please thee most, So call'd on Brobdingnag's stupendous coast,

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