The Poetry Corner

Answered By Dr. Sheridan (To Lady Carteret)

By Jonathan Swift

Your house of hair, and lady's hand, At first did put me to a stand. I have it now - 'tis plain enough - Your hairy business is a muff. Your engine fraught with cooling gales, At once so like your masts and sails; Your thing of various shape and hue Must be some painted toy, I knew; And for the rhyme to you're the man, What fits it better than a fan?