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    On Psyche

    by Jonathan Swift
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    Page 1 of 1
    [Note: Mrs. Sican, a very ingenious lady, mother to the author of the
    "Verses" with Pine's Horace; and a favourite with
    Swift and Stella.--W. E. B.]

    At two afternoon for our Psyche inquire,
    Her tea-kettle's on, and her smock at the fire:
    So loitering, so active; so busy, so idle;
    Which has she most need of, a spur or a bridle?
    Thus a greyhound outruns the whole pack in a race,
    Yet would rather be hang'd than he'd leave a warm place.
    She gives you such plenty, it puts you in pain;
    But ever with prudence takes care of the main.
    To please you, she knows how to choose a nice bit;
    For her taste is almost as refined as her wit.
    To oblige a good friend, she will trace every market,
    It would do your heart good, to see how she will cark it.
    Yet beware of her arts; for, it plainly appears,
    She saves half her victuals, by feeding your ears.
    Page 1 of 1
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