Jonathan Swift

Had the gift,
By fatherige, motherige,
And by brotherige,
To come from Gutherige,
But now is spoil ' d clean,
And an Irish Dean.
In this church he has put
A stone of two foot ;
With a cup and a can, Sir,
In respect to his grandsire ;
So, Ireland, change thy tone,
And cry, O hone ! O hone !
For England hath its own.