Jonathan Swift

She wears her clothes as if they were thrown on her with a
pitchfork.

She wears her clothes as if they were thrown on her with a
pitchfork.

Time stoops to no man's lure.

Time stoops to no man's lure.

The tucked-up sempstress walks hasty strides,
While streams run down her oil'd umbrella's sides.

The tucked-up sempstress walks hasty strides,
While streams run down her oil'd umbrella's sides.

Faith, that's as well said as if I had said it myself.

Faith, that's as well said as if I had said it myself.

So, naturalists observe, a flea
Has smaller fleas that on him prey;
And these have smaller still read more

So, naturalists observe, a flea
Has smaller fleas that on him prey;
And these have smaller still to bite 'em,
And so proceed ad infinitum.
Thus every poet in his kind
Is bit by him that comes behind.