On A Window At The Four Crosses In The Watling-Street Road, Warwickshire (Epigrams On Windows)

Fool, to put up four crosses at your door,
Put up your wife, she's CROSSER than all four.

Jonathan Swift

Jonathan Swift was an Anglo-Irish satirist, essayist, political pamphleteer, poet and cleric who became Dean of St Patrick's Cathedral, Dublin. Swift is remembered for works such as "A Tale of a Tub" (1704), "An Argument Against Abolishing Christianity" (1712), and "Gulliver's Travels" (1726). Swift originally published all of his works under pseudonyms—such as Lemuel Gulliver, Isaac Bickerstaff, Drapier's Letters as MB Drapier—and works were sometimes attributed to Anonymous.

Jonathan Swift

The Reverse (To Swift's Verses On Biddy Floyd); Or, Mrs. Cludd

Jonathan Swift, Simple Poetry

A Character, Panegyric, And Description Of The Legion Club

Jonathan Swift, Simple Poetry

The Journal Of A Modern Lady

Jonathan Swift, Simple Poetry

Bettesworth's Exultation

Jonathan Swift, Simple Poetry

English

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On Seeing Verses Written Upon Windows At Inns (Epigrams On Windows)

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.

Jonathan Swift

Another, At Chester (Epigrams On Windows)

    The walls of this town
    Are full of renown,
And strangers delight to walk round 'em:
    But as for the dwellers,
    Both buyers and sellers,
For me, you may hang 'em, or drown 'em.

Jonathan Swift

At An Inn In England (Epigrams On Windows)

The glass, by lovers' nonsense blurr'd,
    Dims and obscures our sight;
So, when our passions Love has stirr'd,
    It darkens Reason's light.

Jonathan Swift

Another Written Upon A Window Where There Was No Writing Before (Epigrams On Windows)

Thanks to my stars, I once can see
A window here from scribbling free!
Here no conceited coxcombs pass,
To scratch their paltry drabs on glass;
Nor party fool is calling names,
Or dealing crowns to George and James.

Jonathan Swift

Another, At Chester (Epigrams On Windows)

The church and clergy here, no doubt,
    Are very near a-kin;
Both weather-beaten are without,
    And empty both within.

Jonathan Swift

Another, At Chester (Epigrams On Windows)

My landlord is civil,
But dear as the d - l:
Your pockets grow empty
With nothing to tempt ye;
The wine is so sour,
'Twill give you a scour,
The beer and the ale
Are mingled with stale.
The veal is such carrion,
A dog would be weary on.
All this I have felt,
For I live on a smelt.

Jonathan Swift