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Jonathan Swift (Джонатан Свифт)


On a Circle


I'm up and down, and round about,
Yet all the world can't find me out;
Though hundreds have employ'd their leisure,
They never yet could find my measure.
I'm found almost in every garden,
Nay, in the compass of a farthing.
There's neither chariot, coach, nor mill,
Can move an inch except I will. 



Jonathan Swift's other poems:
  1. On Stella's Birth-day 1719
  2. Louisa To Strephon
  3. Epitaph In Berkeley Church-Yard, Gloucestershire
  4. To Stella, Who Collected And Transcribed His Poems
  5. Market Women’s Cries


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