DEAN OF ST. PATRICK'S, DUBLIN.
WITH THE LIFE OF THE AUTHOR.
-------Two Chiefs, the guardians of thy name,
Conspire to raise thee to the point of fame.
Ye future Times! I heard the silver sound,
I saw the Graces form a circle round:
Each where she fix'd attentive seem'd to root,
And all but Eloquence herself was mute.
From out her breast ('twas there the treasure lay)
She drew thy Labours to the blaze of day;
Then gaz'd, and read the charms she could inspire,
And taught the list'ning audience to admire-----
Then here, she cries, let future ages dwell,
And learn to copy where they can excel---
O SWIFT! if fame be life (as well we know
That bards and heroes have esteem'd it so).
Thou can'st not wholly die; thy Works will shine
To future times, and life in fame be thons.
PRINTED UNDER THE DIR2CTION OF J. BELL,
BRITISH LIBRARY, STRAND,
BOOKSELLER TO HIS ROYAL HIGHNESS
THE PRINCE OF WALES,