For want of room by Virgo's side,
She'll strain a point, and sit[6] astride,
To take thee kindly in between;
And then the Signs will be Thirteen.
[Footnote 1: For details of the humorous persecution of this impostor by
Swift, see "Prose Works," vol. i, pp. 298 _et seq.--W. E. B_.]
[Footnote 2: Partridge was a cobbler.--_Swift_.]
[Footnote 3: See his Almanack.--_Swift_.]
[Footnote 4: Allusion to the crescent-shaped ornament of gold or silver
which distinguished the wearer as a senator.
"Appositam nigrae lunam subtexit alutae."--Juvenal, _Sat_. vii, 192; and
Martial, i, 49, "Lunata nusquam pellis."--_W. E. B_.]
[Footnote 5: Luciani Opera, xi, 17.]
[Footnote 6:
"ipse tibi iam brachia contrahit ardens
Scorpios, et coeli iusta plus parte reliquit."
VIRG., _Georg._, i, 34.]
THE EPITAPH
Here, five feet deep, lies on his back
A cobbler, starmonger, and quack;
Who to the stars, in pure good will,
Does to his best look upward still.
Weep, all you customers that use
His pills, his almanacks, or shoes;
And you that did your fortunes seek,
Step to his grave but once a-week;
This earth, which bears his body's print,
You'll find has so much virtue in't,
That I durst pawn my ears, 'twill tell
Whate'er concerns you full as well,
In physic, stolen goods, or love,
As he himself could, when above.
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