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Poem by Jonathan Swift A Rebus. By Vanessa Cut the name of the man [1] who his mistress denied, And let the first of it be only applied To join with the prophet[2] who David did chide; Then say what a horse is that runs very fast;[3] And that which deserves to be first put the last; Spell all then, and put them together, to find The name and the virtues of him I design'd. Like the patriarch in Egypt, he's versed in the state; Like the prophet in Jewry, he's free with the great; Like a racer he flies, to succour with speed, When his friends want his aid, or desert is in need. [Footnote 1: Jo-seph.] [Footnote 2: Nathan.] [Footnote 3: Swift.] Jonathan Swift Jonathan Swift's other poems:
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