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   Chapter 27 No.27

The Poems of Jonathan Swift, D.D., Volume 1 By Jonathan Swift Characters: 909

Updated: 2017-12-01 00:03

This hopeful sect, now it begins to see

How little, very little, do prevail

Their first and chiefest force

To censure, to cry down, and rail,

Not knowing what, or where, or who you be,

Will quickly take another course:

And, by their never-failing ways

Of solving all appearances they please,

We soon shall see them to their ancient methods fall,

And straight deny you to be men, or anything at all.

I laugh at the grave answ

er they will make,

Which they have always ready, general, and cheap:

'Tis but to say, that what we daily meet,

And by a fond mistake

Perhaps imagine to be wondrous wit,

And think, alas! to be by mortals writ,

Is but a crowd of atoms justling in a heap:

Which, from eternal seeds begun,

Justling some thousand years, till ripen'd by the sun:

They're now, just now, as naturally born,

As from the womb of earth a field of corn.

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