The sage, who said he should be proud
Of windows in his breast,[1]
Because he ne'er a thought allow'd
That might not be confest;
His window scrawl'd by every rake,
His breast again would cover,
And fairly bid the devil take
The diamond and the lover.
On Seeing Verses Written Upon Windows At Inns (epigrams On Windows)
Jonathan Swift
(1)
Poem topics: cover, devil, thought, window, diamond, Print This Poem , Rhyme Scheme
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