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Wood An Insect.

By Jonathan Swift

Topics: classic

By long observation I have understood,     That two little vermin are kin to Will Wood.     The first is an insect they call a wood-louse,     That folds up itself in itself for a house,     As round as a ball, without head, without tail,     Enclosed cap pie, in a strong coat of mail.     And thus William Wood to my fancy appears     In fillets of brass roll'd up to his ears;     And over these fillets he wisely has thrown,     To keep out of danger, a doublet of stone.[1]     The louse of the wood for a medicine is used     Or swallow'd alive, or skilfully bruised.     And, let but our mother Hibernia contrive     To swallow Will Wood, either bruised or alive,     She need be no more with the jaundice possest,     Or sick of obstructions, and pains in her chest.         The next is an insect we call a wood-worm,     That lies in old wood like a hare in her form;     With teeth or with claws it will bite or will scratch,     And chambermaids christen this worm a death-watch;     Because like a watch it always cries click;     Then woe be to those in the house who are sick:     For, as sure as a gun, they will give up the ghost,     If the maggot cries click when it scratches the post;     But a kettle of scalding hot-water injected     Infallibly cures the timber affected;     The omen is broken, the danger is over;     The maggot will die, and the sick will recover.     Such a worm was Will Wood, when he scratch'd at the door     Of a governing statesman or favourite whore;     The death of our nation he seem'd to foretell,     And the sound of his brass we took for our knell.     But now, since the Drapier has heartily maul'd him,     I think the best thing we can do is to scald him;     For which operation there's nothing more proper     Than the liquor he deals in, his own melted copper;     Unless, like the Dutch, you rather would boil     This coiner of raps[2] in a caldron of oil.     Then choose which you please, and let each bring a fagot,     For our fear's at an end with the death of the maggot.

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"By long observation I have understood,..."

This evocative piece by Jonathan Swift, titled "Wood An Insect.", represents a masterful exploration of classic. The lines capture a profound emotional resonance... ### Why We Love This Line At Linespedia, we believe that poetry is the ultimate sanctuary for the soul...

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Author:Jonathan Swift

"By long observation I have understood,..." by Jonathan Swift

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Jonathan Swift

About Jonathan Swift

Jonathan Swift (1667–1745) was an Irish satirist, essayist, and poet. Best known for "Gulliver's Travels," his poetry includes "A Description of a City Shower" and "Verses on the Death of Dr. Swift." His sharp wit and moral indignation made him one of the greatest satirists in English.

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