Stella this Day is thirty four, <br />(We shan't dispute a Year or more) <br />However Stella, be not troubled, <br />Although thy Size and Years are doubled, <br />Since first I saw Thee at Sixteen <br />The brightest Virgin on the Green, <br />So little is thy Form declin'd <br />Made up so largely in thy Mind. <br />Oh, woud it please the Gods to split <br />Thy Beauty, Size, and Years, and Wit, <br />No Age could furnish out a Pair <br />Of Nymphs so graceful, Wise and fair <br />With half the Lustre of your Eyes, <br />With half your Wit, your Years and Size: <br />And then before it grew too late, <br />How should I beg of gentle Fate, <br />(That either Nymph might have her Swain,) <br />To split my Worship too in twain.<br /><br />Jonathan Swift<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/on-stella-s-birth-day-1719/
