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[ Swift’s views on language ] I Already as a youthful bard The goal to him was more than clear With vigour guard and true protect Temple of our timeless tongue, Shrine of our silver speech. He washed his hands and kept them clean When handling words, care not to soil Or scribbling them, not to defile. And in mid-life then, with passing years He switched from whig to tory He battled strong against false taste Upheld unchanging art. But in the question of our speech His views were quite misled. II Language is a winding road: Whence it comes lies so far back We cannot see the source. Where it goes we do not know What lies around the bend. And in its course it can divide Meet up with other paths. And if we try here in our time, To block the road and make it stop We find this does not work. No fear of change, dislike of turns Should dominate our views. Enjoy instead a roadside feast And after we have had our fill Allow the train move on. |
