Rev. Jonathan Swift

Anonymous, "Ay and No. A Tale from Dublin, done into Verse" Virginia Gazette (28 April 1738).

At Dublin's high Feast sat Primate and Dean,
Both dress'd like Divines, with Band and Face clean.
Quoth Hugh of Armagh, the Mob is grown bold.
Ay, ay, quoth the Dean, the Cause is old Gold.
No, no, quoth the Prime — if Causes we sift,
The Mischief arises from witty Dean Swift.
The smart one replied, there's no Wit in the Case;
And nothing of that e'er troubl'd your Grace.
Tho' with your State sieve your own Notions you split,
A Bolter by Name is no Bolter of Wit.
'Tis Matter of Weight, and a mere Money Job;
But the lower the Coin, the higher the Mob.
Go tell your Friend Bob, and other great Folk,
That sinking the Coin is a dangerous Joke.
The Irish dear Joys have enough Common Sense.
To treat Gold reduc'd like Wood's Copper Pence,
Tis pity a Prelate should die without Law;
But if I say the Word — take care of Armagh.