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Jonathan Swift - A Description of a City Shower
Work rating: Low

Careful Observers may fortel the Hour 
(By sure Prognosticks) when to dread a Show`r: 
While Rain depends, the pensive Cat gives o`er 
Her Frolicks, and pursues her Tail no more. 
Returning Home at Night, you`ll find the Sink 
Strike your offended Sense with double Stink. 
If you be wise, then go not far to Dine, 
You spend in Coach-hire more than save in Wine. 
A coming Show`r your shooting Corns presage, 
Old Aches throb, your hollow Tooth will rage. 
Sauntring in Coffee-house is Dulman seen; 
He damns the Climate, and complains of Spleen.

Mean while the South rising with dabbled Wings, 
A Sable Cloud a-thwart the Welkin flings, 
That swill`d more Liquor than it could contain, 
And like a Drunkard gives it up again. 
Brisk Susan whips her Linen from the Rope, 
While the first drizzling Show`r is born aslope, 
Such is that Sprinkling which some careless Quean 
Flirts on you from her Mop, but not so clean. 
You fly, invoke the Gods; then turning, stop 
To rail; she singing, still whirls on her Mop. 
Not yet, the Dust had shun`d th`unequal Strife, 
But aided by the Wind, fought still for Life; 
And wafted with its Foe by violent Gust, 
`Twas doubtful which was Rain, and which was Dust. 
Ah! where must needy Poet seek for Aid, 
When Dust and Rain at once his Coat invade; 
Sole Coat, where Dust cemented by the Rain, 
Erects the Nap, and leaves a cloudy Stain.

Now in contiguous Drops the Flood comes down, 
Threat`ning with Deloge this Devoted Town. 
To Shops in Crouds the dagled Females fly, 
Pretend to cheapen Goods, but nothing buy. 
The Templer spruce, while ev`ry Spout`s a-broach, 
Stays till `tis fair, yet seems to call a Coach. 
The tuck`d-up Sempstress walks with hasty Strides, 
While Streams run down her oil`d Umbrella`s Sides. 
Here various Kinds by various Fortunes led, 
Commence Acquaintance underneath a Shed. 
Triumphant Tories, and desponding Whigs, 
Forget their Fewds, and join to save their Wigs. 
Box`d in a Chair the Beau impatient sits, 
While Spouts run clatt`ring o`er the Roof by Fits; 
And ever and anon with frightful Din 
The Leather sounds, he trembles from within. 
So when Troy Chair-men bore the Wooden Steed, 
Pregnant with Greeks, impatient to be freed, 
(Those Bully Greeks, who, as the Moderns do, 
Instead of paying Chair-men, run them thro`.) 
Laoco`n struck the Outside with his Spear, 
And each imprison`d Hero quak`d for Fear.

Now from all Parts the swelling Kennels flow, 
And bear their Trophies with them as they go: 
Filth of all Hues and Odours seem to tell 
What Streets they sail`d from, by the Sight and Smell. 
They, as each Torrent drives, with rapid Force 
From Smithfield, or St.Pulchre`s shape their Course, 
And in huge Confluent join at Snow-Hill Ridge, 
Fall from the Conduit prone to Holborn-Bridge. 
Sweepings from Butchers Stalls, Dung, Guts, and Blood,
Drown`d Puppies, stinking Sprats, all drench`d in Mud,
Dead Cats and Turnips-Tops come tumbling down the Flood.
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