Jonathan Swift

(30 November 1667 – 19 October 1745 / Dublin)

On Himself - Poem by Jonathan Swift

ON RAINY days alone I dine
Upon a chick and pint of wine.
On rainy days I dine alone
And pick my chicken to the bone;
But this my servants much enrages,
No scraps remain to save board-wages.
In weather fine I nothing spend,
But often spunge upon a friend;
Yet, where he’s not so rich as I,
I pay my club, and so good-bye.


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Poem Submitted: Monday, April 12, 2010



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