Poem by Jonathan Swift

* * *

Dingley and Brent,
Wherever they went,
Ne'er minded a word that was spoken;
Whatever was said,
They ne'er troubled their head,
But laugh'd at their own silly joking.


Should Solomon wise
In majesty rise,
And show them his wit and his learning;
They never would hear,
But turn the deaf ear,
As a matter they had no concern in.


You tell a good jest,
And please all the rest;
Comes Dingley, and asks you, what was it?
And, curious to know,
Away she will go
To seek an old rag in the closet. 

1. Dean Swift at Sir Arthur Acheson’s, in the North of Ireland
2. At Holyhead
3. Drapier’s Hill
4. Verses on Blenheim
5. On Stella's Birth-day 1719

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