Since Anna, whose bounty thy merits had fed,
Ere her own was laid low, had exalted thy head:
And since our good queen to the wise is so just,
To raise heads for such as are humbled in dust,
I wonder, good man, that you are not envaulted;
Prithee go, and be dead, and be doubly exalted.
A Conclusion, Drawn From The Epigrams, Epigram On The Busts, And Sent To The Drapier
Jonathan Swift
(1)
Poem topics: head, raise, wise, queen, dust, I love you, I miss you, good, Print This Poem , Rhyme Scheme
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