Poem by Jonathan Swift

On a Very Old Glass at Market-Hill

Frail glass! thou mortal art as well as I;
Though none can tell which of us first shall die. 

1. A Rebus. By Vanessa
2. At Holyhead
3. Dean Swift at Sir Arthur Acheson’s, in the North of Ireland
4. Verses on Blenheim
5. Drapier’s Hill

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