Helter Skelter (by Jonathan Swift)

Jonathan Swift
Helter Skelter
Now the active young Attornies
Briskly travel on their Journies,
Looking big as any Gyants,
On the Horses of their Clients;
Like so many little Mars's,
With their Tilters at their Arses,
Brazen hilted lately burnish'd,
And with Harness-Buckles furnish'd;
And with Whips and Spurs so neat,
And with Jockey-Coats compleat;
And with Boots so very grazy
And with Saddles eke so easy
And with Bridles fine and gay,
Bridles borrow'd for a Day,
Bridles destin'd far to roam,
Ah! never to return Home;
And with Hats so very big, Sir,
And wi[t]h powder'd Caps and Wigs, Sir:
And with Ruffles to be shewn,
Cambrick Ruffles not their own;
And with Holland Shirts so white,
Shirts becoming to the sight,
Shirts be wrought with different Letters,
As belonging to their betters:
With their pretty tinsel'd Boxes,
Gotten from their dainty Doxies,
And with Rings so very trim,
Lately taken out of Lim—
And with very little Pence,
And as very little Sence:
With some Law but little Justice,
Having stolen from mine Hostess,
From the Barber and the Cutler,
Like the Soldier from the Sutler;
From the Vintner and the Taylor,
Like the Felon from the Jailer,
Into this and t'other County,
Living on the publick Bounty;
Thorough Town and thorough Village,
All to plunder, all to pillage;
Thorow Mountains thorow Vallies;
Thorow stinking Lanes and Allies;
Some to Cuckold Farmers Spouses,
And make merry in their Houses;
Some to tumble Country-Wenches
On their Rushy Beds and Benches,
And, if they begin a Fray,
Draw their Swords and run away:
All to murder Equity,
And to take a double Fee;
Till the People all are quiet
And forget to broil and riot,
Low in Pocket, Cow'd in Courage,
Safely glad to sup their Porridge,
And Vacation's over—then
Hey for Dublin Town agen!
[published by Jonathan Swift, 1731]





Chuckle. Things in the legal world haven't changed that much in 277 years.
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As wise Solomon is said to have said, "There is nothing new under the sun."
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This is of the doorway to St. Patrick's Cathedral, Dublin and is (if I remember correctly) a depiction of Swift when he was dean there:
This is the plaque on the floor over his grave and to the right that of one of his two female companions. He apparently never married her but no one knows for sure and there was at one point another woman in his life as well who may have committed suicide when he dumped her:
This I think you'll recognize. He sits in a park across from the hotel we stayed in in Dublin, communing with the pigeons and the Irish drunkards who pass out among the underbrush to avoid the garda:
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Awesome photos! Thank you very much for sharing them, Pinky!
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Great photos and captions. Alas, for the last - tis not Swift sprawled on the rock but the man Oscar Wilde, himself another great Irish satirist. This sculptural depiction was controversial - done in glazed pop colors, pseudo real hair etc. Oscar spreading his legs and "lookin' at ya". Swift was altogether an odd man for his times. He slagged off the British establishment with great acid wit. In this he is truly Irish.
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Thank you, Andrew!
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One of the best rules in conversation is, never to say a thing which any of the company can reasonably wish had been left unsaid.
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