The persistence of many of these phrases is demonstrated by the high percentage that have lasted since the 18th century, when Jonathan Swift published the poem A New Song of Similes, 1757:
My paffion is as muftard ftrong;
I fit all fober fad,
Drunk as a piper all day long,
Or like a March hare mad.
Round as a hoop the bumpers flow ;
I drink, yet can't forget her ;
For, tho' as drunk as David's fow,
I love her ftill the better.
Pert as a pear-monger I'd be,
If Molly were but kind ;
Cool as a cucumber could fee
The reft of woman-kind.
Like a ftuck pig I gaping ftare,
And eye her o'er and o'er ;
Lean as a rake with fighs and care,
Sleek as a moufe before.
Plump as a partridge was I known,
And foft as filk my fkin ;
My cheeks as fat as butter grown;
But as a groat now thin.
I melancholy as a cat
Am kept awake to weep ;
But fhe, infenfible of that,
Sound as a top can fleep.
Hard is her heart as flint or flone;
She laughs to fee me pale,
And merry as a grig is grown,
And brifk as bottled ale.
The god of love at her approach
Is bufy as a bee!
Hearts found as any bell or roach
Are fmit, and figh like me.
Ay me! as thick as hops or hail,
The fine men croud about her:
But foon as dead as a door-nail
Shall I be, if without her.
Strait as my leg her fhape appears;
O were we join'd together!
My heart would be fcot-free from cares,
And lighter than a feather.
As fine as fivepence is her mien;
No drum was ever tighter ;
Her glance is as the razor keen,
And not the fun k brighter.
As foft as pap her kiffes are ;
Methinks I tafte them yet ;
Brown as a berry is her hair,
Her eyes as black as jet.
As fmooth as glafs, as white as curds,
Her pretty hand invites :
Sharp as a needle are her words ;
Her wit like pepper bites.
Brifk as a body-loufe fhe trips,
Clean as a penny dreft ;
Sweet as a rofe her breath and lips,
Round as the globe her breaft.
Full as an egg was I with glee,
And happy as a king!
Good Lord! how all men envy'd me
She lov'd like any thing.
But falfe as hell, fhe, like the wind,
Chang'd, as her fex muft do ;
Tho' feeming as the turtle kind,
And like the gofpel true.
If I and Molly could agree,
Let who would take Peru!
Great as an emp'ror fhould I be,
And richer than a Jew.
Till you grow tender as a chick,
I'm dull as any poft :
Let us like burs together flick,
And warm as any toaft.
You'll know me truer than a dye,
And wifh me better fped,
Flat as a flounder when I lie,
And as a herring dead.
Sure at a gun fhe'll drop a tear.
And figh perhaps, and wifh,
When I am rotten as a pear,
And mute as any fifh.