________________________________________________
Title: Written By Dr. Swift On His Own Deafness
Author: Jonathan Swift [
More Titles by Swift]
September, 1734
Vertiginosus, inops, surdus, male gratus amicis;
Non campana sonans, tonitru non ab Jove missum,
Quod mage mirandum, saltem si credere fas est,
Non clamosa meas mulier jam percutit aures.
THE DEAN'S COMPLAINT, TRANSLATED AND ANSWERED
DOCTOR. Deaf, giddy, helpless, left alone.
ANSWER. Except the first, the fault's your own.
DOCTOR. To all my friends a burden grown.
ANSWER. Because to few you will be shewn.
Give them good wine, and meat to stuff,
You may have company enough.
DOCTOR. No more I hear my church's bell,
Than if it rang out for my knell.
ANSWER. Then write and read, 'twill do as well.
DOCTOR. At thunder now no more I start,
Than at the rumbling of a cart.
ANSWER. Think then of thunder when you f--t.
DOCTOR. Nay, what's incredible, alack!
No more I hear a woman's clack.
ANSWER. A woman's clack, if I have skill,
Sounds somewhat like a throwster's mill;
But louder than a bell, or thunder:
That does, I own, increase my wonder.
[The end]
Jonathan Swift's poem: Written By Dr. Swift On His Own Deafness, In September, 1734
________________________________________________
GO TO TOP OF SCREEN
