The Thresher and Favourite Poet.
A quibbling Epigram.
The thresher Duck could o'er the queen prevail,
The proverb says "no fence against a flail",
From threshing corn he turns to thresh his brains;
For which her majesty allows him grains*:
Though 'tis confess'd that those who ever saw
His poems think them all not worth a straw!
Thrice happy Duck, employ'd in threshing stubble,
Thy toil is lessen'd and thy profits double.
-- Jonathan Swift, 1730
*"allowing him a Salary of Thirty Pounds per Annum, and a small House at Richmond in Surrey"
