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The scolding huckster shall not o'er thee moan, There mayst thou pass with sase unmiry feet,
But pence exact for nuts and pears o'erthrown. Where the rais’d pavement leads athwart the street.

Though you through cleanlier allies wind by day, If where Fleet-ditch with muddy current flows,
To shun the hurries of the public way,

You chance to roam; where oyster-tubs in rows Yet ne'er to those dark paths by night retire; Are rang'd beside the posts; there stay thy haste, Mind only safety, and contemn the mire.

And with the savoury fish indulge thy taste; Then no impervious courts thy haste detain,

The damsel's koife the gaping shell commands,
Nor sneering alewives bid thee turn again.

While the salt liquor streams between her lands.
Where Lincoln's-inn, wide space, is rail'd around, The man had sure a palate cover'd o'er
Cross not with venturous step; there oft is found With brass or steel, that on the rocky shore
The lurking thief, who while the daylight shone First broke the oozy oyster's pearly coat,
Made the walls echo with his begging tone: (wound And risk'd the living morsel down his throat.
That crutch, which late compassion mov’d, shall What will not luxury taste. Earth, sea, and air,
Thy bleeding head, and fell thee to the ground. Are daily ransack'd for the bill of fare !
Though thou art tempted by the linkman's call, Blood stuff'd in skins is British Christian's food;
Yet trust him not along the lonely wall;

And France robs marshes of the croaking brood!
In the midway he'll quench the flaming brand, Spungy morels in strong ragouts are found,
And share the booty with the pilfering band. And in the soup the slimy snail is drown'd.
Still keep the public streets, where oily rays,

When from high spouts the dashing torrents fall,
Shot from the crystal lamp, o'erspread the ways. Ever be watchful to maintain the wall; (throng
Ilappy Augusta! law-defended town!

For shouldst thou quit thy ground, the rushing
Here no dark-lanterns shade the villain's frown ; Will with impetuous fury drive along;
No Spanish jealousies thy lanes in fest,

All press to gain those honours thou hast lost,
Nor Roman vengeance stabs th' unwary breast; And rudely shove thee far without the post.
Here tyranny ne'er lifts her purple hand,

Then to retrieve the shed you strive in vain, But liberty and justice guard the land;

Draggled all o'er, and soak'd in floods of rain. No bravos here profess the bloody trade,

Yet rather bear the shower, and toils of mud,
Nor is the church the murderer's refuge made. Than in the doubtful quarrel risk thy blood.

Let not the chairman, with assuming stride, O think on (Edipus' detested state,
Press near the wall, and rudely thrust thy side: And by his woes be warn'd to shun thy fate,
The laws have set him bounds; his servile feet Where three roads join’d, he met his sire un-
Should ne'er encroach where posts defend the street. (Unhappy sire, but more unhappy son !) (known;
Yet who the footman's arrogance can quell,

Each claim'd the way, their swords the strise decide,
Whose flambeau gilds the sashes of Pall-mall, The hoary monarch fell, he groan'd, and died!
When in long rank a train of torches flame,

Hence sprung the fatal plague that thin’d thy reign, To light the midnight visits of the dame?

Thy cursed incest! and thy children slain! Others, perhaps, by happier guidance led,

Hence wert thou doom'd in endless night to stray, May where the chairman rests with safety tread; Through Theban streets, and cheerless grope thy Whene'er I pass, their poles (unseen below)

Contemplate, mortal, on thy fleeting years; (way. Make my knee tremble with a jarring blow, See, with black train the funeral pomp appears! If wheels bar up the road, where streets are crost,

Whether some heir attends in sable state,
With gentle words the coachman's ear accost: And mourns with outward grief a parent's fate;
He ne'er the threat or harsh command obeys, Or the fair virgin, nipt in beauty's bloom,
But with contempt the spatter'd shoe surveys. A crowd of lovers follow to her tomb:
Now man with utmost fortitude thy soul,

Why is the hearse with 'scutcheons blazon'd round, To cross the where carts and coaches roll;

And with the nodding plume of ostrich crowu’d? Yet do not in thy hardy skill confide,

No: the dead know it not, nor profit gain; Nor rashly risk the kennel's spacious stride; It only serves to prove the living vain. Stay till afar the distant wheel you hear,

How short is life! how frail is human trust! Like dying thunder in the breaking air;

Is all this pomp for laying dust to dust? Thy foot will slide upon the miry stone,

Where the nail'd hoop defends the painted stall

, And passing coaches crush thy tortur'd bone,

Brush not thy sweeping skirt too near the wall: Or wheels inclose the road; on either hand

Thy heedless sleeve will drink the colour'd oil,
Pent round with perils, in the midst you stand, And spot indelible thy pocket soil.
And call for aid in vain; the coachman swears, Has not wise nature strung the legs and feet
And carmen drive, uomindful of thy prayers.
Where wilt thou turn? ah! whither wilt thou fly? Has she not given us hands to grope aright,
On every side the pressing spokes are nigh.

Amidst the frequent dangers of the night?
So sailors, while Charybdis' gulf they shun,
Amaz'd on Scylla's craggy dangers run.

Be sure observe where brown Ostrea stands,
Who boasts her shelly ware from Walfleet sands;

way

With firmest nerves, design'd to walk the street?

And think'st thou not the double nostril meant
To warn from oily woes by previous scent?

Who can the various city frauds recite,
With all the petty rapines of the night?

Who now the guinea-dropper's bait regards, But, if they shake their lanterns, from afar
Trick'd by the sharper's dice, or juggler's cards ? To call their brethren to confederate war,
Why should I warn thee ne'er to join the fray, When rakes resist their power; if hapless you
Where the sham quarrel interrupts the way? Should chance to wander with the scouring crew;
Lives there in these our days so soft a clown, Though fortune yield thee captive, ne'er despair,
Brav'd by the bully's oaths, or threatening frown? But seek the constable's considerate ear;
I need not strict enjoin the pocket's care,

He will reverse the watchman's harsh decree,
When from the crowded play thou lead'st the fair; Mov’d by the rhetoric of a silver fee.
Who has not here or watch or snuff-box lost, Thus,would you gain some favourite courtier's word,
Or handkerchiefs that India's shuttle boast?

Fee not the petty clerks, but bribe my lord. 0! may thy virtue guard thee through the roads Now is the time that rakes their revels keep; Of Drury's mazy courts, and dark abodes !

Kindiers of riot, enemies of sleep. The harlot's guileful paths, who nightly stand His scatter'd pence the flying nicker flings, Where Catherine-street descends into the Strand; And with the copper shower the casement rings. Say, vagrant Muse, their wiles and subtle arts, Who has not heard the Scowerer's midnight fame? To lure the strangers' unsuspecting hearts :

Who has not trembled at the Mohock's name? So shall our youth on healthful sinews tread, Was there a watchman took his hourly rounds, And city cheeks grow warm with rural red. Safe from their blows, or new-invented wounds? 'Tis she who nightly strolls with sauntering pace,

I

pass their desperate deeds, and mischiefs done, No stubborn stays her yielding shape embrace; Where from Snowhill black steepy torrents run; Beneath the lamp her tawdry ribbons glare, How matrons, hoop'd within the hogshead's womb, The new-scour'd manteau, and the slattern air ; Were tumbled furious thence; the rolling tomb High-draggled petticoats her travels show,

O'er the stones thunders, bounds from side to side: And hollow cheeks with artful blushes glow; So Regulus to save his country dy'd. With flattering sounds she soothes the credulous ear, Where a dim gleam the paly lantern throws ** My noble captain! charmer! love!

my

dear!” O'er the mid pavement, heapy rubbish grows; In riding-hood, near tavern-doors she plies, Or arched vaults their gaping jaws extend, Or muffled pinners bide her livid eyes.

Or the dark caves to common-shores descend; With empty bandbox she delights to range, Oft by the winds extinct the signal lies, And feigns a distant errand from the 'Change; Or smother'd in the glimmering socket dies, Nay, she will oft the Quaker's hood profane, Ere night has half rollid round her ebon throne ; And trudge demure the rounds of Drury-lane. In the wide gulph the shatter'd coach o'erthrown She darts from sarsenet ambush wily leers,

Sinks with the snorting steeds; the reins are broke, Twitches thy sleeve, or with familiar airs

And from the cracking axle flies the spoke. Her fan will pat thy cheek; these snares disdain, So, when fam'd Eddystone's far-shooting ray, Nor gaze behind thee, when she turns again. That led the sailor through the stormy way, I knew a yeoman, who, for thirst of gain,

Was from its rocky roots by billows torn, To the great city drove, from Devon's plain, And the high turret in the whirlwind borne ; His numerous lowing herd; his herds he sold, Fleets bulg'd their sides against the craggy land, And his deep leathern pocket bagg’d with gold. And pitchy ruins blacken’d all the strand. (steed? Drawn by a fraudsul nymph, he gaz'd, he sigh’d: Who then through night would hire the harness'd Unmindful of his home, and distant bride,

And who would choose the rattling wheel for speed ? She leads the willing victim to his doom,

But hark! distress with screaming voice draws Through winding alleys to her cobweb room.

nigher, Thence through the street he reels from post to post, And wakes the slumbering street with cries of fire. Valiant with wine, nor knows his treasure lost.

At first a glowing red inwraps the skies, The vagrant wretch th' assembled watchmen spies, And borne by winds the scattering sparks arise ; He waves his hanger, and their poles defies; From beam to beam the fierce contagion spreads; Deep in the round-house pent, all night he snores, The spiry flames now lift aloft their heads; And the next morn in vain his fate deplores.

Through the burst sash a blazing deluge pours, Ah, hapless swain! unus'd to pains and ills ! And splitting tiles descend in rattling showers; Canst thou forego roast-beef for nauseous pills ? Now with thick crowds th’ enlighten'd pavement How wilt thou lift to Heaven thy eyes and hands,

swarms, When the long scroll the surgeon's fees demands ! The fireman sweats beneath his crooked arms; Or else (ye gods avert that worst disgrace !)

A leathern casque his venturous head defends, Thy ruin'd nose falls level with thy face!

Boldly he climbs where thickest smoke ascends; Then shall thy wife thy loathsome kiss disdain, Mov’d by the mother's streaming eyes and prayers, And wholesome neighbours from thy mug refrain. The helpless infant through the flame he bears,

Yet there are watchmen, who with friendly light, With no less virtue, than through hostile fire Will teach thy reeling steps to tread aright; The Dardan hero bore his aged sire. For sixpence will oport thy helpless arm,

See forceful engines spout their levellid streams, And home conduct thee, safe from nightly harm. To quench the blaze that runs along the beams;

The grappling hook plucks rafters from the walls,

Did I not see thee when thou first set'st sail

To seek adventures fair in Homer's land? And heaps on heaps the smoaky ruin falls; Blown by strong winds, the fiery tempest roars,

Did I not see thy sinking spirits fail, Bears down new walls, and pours along the floors;

And wish thy bark had never left the strand? The Heavens are all a-blaze, the face of night

Ev’n in mid ocean often didst thou quail, Is cover'd with a sanguine dreadful light.

And oft lift up thy holy eye and hand, 'Twas such a light involv'd thy towers, O Rome !

Praying the virgin dear, and saintly choir,
The dire presage of mighty Cæsar's doom,

Back to the port to bring thy bark entire.
When the sun veil'd in rust his mourning head,
And frightful prodigies the skies o'erspread.

Cheer up, my friend! thy dangers now are o'er; Hark! the drum thunders! far, ye crowds retire;

Methinks—nay, sure the rising coasts appear; Behold! the ready match is tipt with fire,

Hark! how the guns salute from either shore, The nitrous store is laid, the smutty train

As thy trim vessel cuts the Thames so fair: With running blaze awakes the barrel'd grain ;

Shouts answering shouts from Kent and Essex roar, Flames sudden wrap the walls; with sullen sound

And bells break loud through every gust of air: The shatter'd pile sinks on the smoaky ground.

Bonfires do blaze, and bones and cleavers ring, So, when the years shall have revolv'd the date,

As at the coming of some mighty king. Th’inevitable hour of Naples' fate, Her sap'd foundations shall with thunders shake, Now pass we Gravesend with a friendly wind, And heave and toss upon the suphurous lake;

And Tilbury's white fort, and long Blackwall; Earth's womb at once the fiery flood shall rend,

Greenwich, where dwells the friend of human kiod, And in th' abyss her plunging towers descend. More visited than or her park or hall.

Consider, reader, what fatigues I've known, Withers the good, and (with him ever join'd) The toils, the perils of the wintery town;

Facetious Disney, greet thee first of all: What riots seen, what bustling crowds I bore, I see his chimney smoke, and hear him say, How oft I cross'd where carts and coaches roar; Duke! that's the room for Pope, and that for Gay Yet shall I bless my labours, if mankind Their future safety from my dangers find.

Come in, my friends! here shall ye dine and lie, Thus the bold traveller, inur'd to toil,

And here shall breakfast, and here dine again; Whose steps have printed Asia's desert soil, And sup and breakfast on (if ye comply), The barbarous Arabs' haunt; or shivering crost

For I have still some dozens of champaign: Dark Greenland's mountains of eternal frost; His voice still lessens as the ship sails by; Whom Providence in length of years restores

He waves his hand to bring us back in vain; To the wish'd harbour of his native shores,

For now I see, I see proud London's spires; Sets forth his journals to the public view,

Greenwich is lost, and Deptford dock retires. To caution, by his woes, the wandering crew.

And now complete my generous labours lie, Oh, what a concourse swarms on yonder quay! Finish'd, and ripe for immortality.

The sky re-echoes with new shouts of joy; Death shall entomb in dust this mouldering frame,

By all this show, I ween, 'tis Lord Mayor's-day; But never reach th' eternal part, my fame.

I hear the voice of trumpet and hautboy:When W— and G-nighty names ! are dead;

No, now I see them near.-Oh, these are they Or but at Chelsea under custards read;

Who come in crowds to welcome thee from Tror. When critics crazy bandboxes repair,

Hail to the bard, whom long as lost we moura'd; And tragedies, turn'd rockets, bounce in air; From siege, from battle, and from storm, return'd! High rais'd on Fleet-street posts, consign’d to fame, This work shall shine, and walkers bless my name.

Of goodly dames, and courteous knights, I view

The silken petticoat, and broider'd vest;

Yea peers, and mighty dukes, with ribbands blue EPISTLE TO MR. POPE,

(True blue, fair emblem of unstained breast). Others I see, as noble and more true,

By no court-badge distinguish'd from the rest: HOMER'S ILIAD.

First see I Methuen, of sincerest mind,

As Arthur grave, as soft as womankind. A Welcome from Greece. Long hast thou, friend! been absent from my soil, What lady's that, to whom he gently bends: [eyes: Like patient Ithacus at siege of Troy ;

Who knows not her? ah ! those are Wortley's I have been witness of thy six years toil,

How art thou honour'd, number'd with her friends! Thy daily labours, and thy night's annoy,

For she distinguishes the good and wise. Lost to thy native land, with great turmoil, The sweet-tongu'd Murray near her side attends;

On the wide sea, oft threatening to destroy: Now to my heart the glance of Howard flies; Methinks with thee I've trod Sigæan ground, Now Harvey, fair of face, I mark full well, And heard the shores of Hellespont resound. With thee,youth's youngest daughter, sweet Lepell.

ON HIS HAVING FINISHED HIS TRANSLATION OF

I see two lovely sisters, hand in hand,

Arbuthnot there I see, in physic's art, The fair-hair'd Martha, and Teresa brown;

As Galen learn’d, or famed Hippocrate; Madge Bellenden, the tallest of the land;

Whose company drives sorrow from the heart, And smiling Mary, soft and fair as down.

As all disease his medicines dissipate : Yonder I see the cheerful duchess stand, [known: Kneller amid the triumph bears his part,

For friendship, zeal, and blithesome humours Who could (were mankind lost) a new create: Whence that loud shout in such a hearty strain ? What can th' extent of his vast soul confine? Why, all the Hamiltons are in her train.

A painter, critic, engineer, divine ! See next the decent Scudamore advance,

Thee Jervas hails, robust and debonair, [cries: With Winchelsea, still meditating song:

Now have (we) conquer'd Homer, friends, he With her perhaps Miss Howe came there by chance, Darteneuf, grave joker, joyous Ford is there, Nor knows with whom or why she comes along.

And wondering Maine, so fat with laughing eyes, Far off from these see Santlow, fam'd for dance; (Gay, Maine, and Cheney, boon companions dear, And frolic Bicknell, and her sister young;

Gay fat, Maine fatter, Cheney huge of size) With other names, by me not to be nam’d,

Yea Dennis, Gildon (hearing thou hast riches), Much lov'd in private, not in public fam’d!

And honest, hatless Cromwell, with red breeches. But now behold the female band retire,

O Wanley, whence com'st thou with shorten'd hair, And the shrill music of their voice is still'd!

And visage from thy shelves with dust besprent? Methinks I see fam’d Buckingham admire,

“ Forsooth (quoth he) from placing Homer there, That in Troy's ruin thou hadst not been kill'd, For ancients to compyle is myne entente: Sheffield, who knows to strike the living lyre

Of ancients only hath Lord Harley care; With hand judicious, like thy Homer skill'd; But hither me hath my meeke lady sent:Bathurst impetuous hastens to the coast,

In manuscript of Greeke rede we thilke same, Whom you and I strive who shall love the most. But book yprint best plesyth myn gude dame."

Yonder I see, among th' expecting crowd, See generous Burlington, with goodly Bruce

Evans with laugh jocose, and tragic Young; (But Bruce comes wafted in a soft sedan ;) Dan Prior next, belov'd by every Muse ;

High-buskin'd Booth, grave Mawbert, wandering

Frowde, And friendly Congreve, unreproachful man!

And Titcomb's belly waddles slow along. (Oxford by Cunningham bath sent excuse;)

See Digby faints at Southerne talking loud, See hearty Watkins comes with cup and can;

Yea Steele and Tickell mingle in the throng: And Lewis, who has never friend forsaken ;

Tickell, whose skiff (in partnership they say) And Laughton whispering asks—Is Troy town taken?

Set forth for Greece, but founder'd in the way. Earl Warwick comes, of free and honest mind;

Lo, the two Doncastles in Berkshire known! Bold, generous Craggs, whose heart was ne'er

Lo Bickford, Fortescue, of Devon land ! disguis'd:

Lo Tooker, Eckershall, Sykes, Rawlinson ! Ah why, sweet St. John, cannot I thee find!

See hearty Morley takes thee by the hand; St. John, for every social virtue priz'd.

Ayrs, Graham, Buckridge, joy thy voyage done; Alas! to foreign climates he's confin’d,

But who can count the leaves, the stars, the sand ? Or else to see thee here I well surmis'd:

Lo Stoner, Fenton, Caldwell, Ward, and Broome! Thou too, my Swift, dost breathe Bæotian air;

Lo thousands more ; but I want rhyme and room! When wilt thou bring back wit and humour here?

How lov'd! how honour'd thou ! yet be not vain : Harcourt I see, for eloquence renown'd,

And sure thou art not, for I hear thee say, The mouth of justice, oracle of law!

All this, my friends, I owe to Homer's strain, Another Simon is beside him found,

On whose strong pinions I exalt my lay. Another Simon, like as straw to straw.

What from contending cities did he gain? How Lansdown smiles, with lasting laurel crown'd! And what rewards his grateful country pay?

What mitred prelate there commands our awe? None, none were paid -why then all this for me? See Rochester approving nods his head,

These honours, Homer, had been just to thee. And ranks one modern with the mighty dead.

Carleton and Chandos thy arrival grace;

Hanmer, whose eloquence th' unbiass'd sways; Harley, whose goodness opens in his face,

And shows his heart the seat where virtue stays.
Ned Blount advances next, with busy pace,

In haste, but sauntering, hearty in his ways:
I see the friendly Carylls come by dozens, [sins.
Their wives, their uncles, daughters, sons, and cou-

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William, who high upon the yard

Undid creation at a jirk, Rock'd with the billows to and fro,

And of redemption made damn'd work. Soon as her well-known voice he heard,

Then took his Muse at once and dipt her He sigh'd and cast his eyes below:

Full in the middle of the Scripture. The cord slides swiftly through his glowing hands,

What wonders there the man, grown old, did ? And (quick as lightning) on the deck he stands.

Sternhold himself, he out-Sternholded,

Made David seem so mad and freakish, So the sweet lark, high pois'd in air,

All thought him just what thought king Achish. Shuts close his pinions to his breast

No mortal read his Solomon, (If chance his mate's shrill call he hear),

But judg'd Re’boam his own son. And drops at once into her nest.

Moses he serv'd as Moses Pharoah, The noblest captain in the British fleet

And Deborah, as she Sise-rah: Might envy William's lip those kisses sweet.

Made Jeremy full sore to cry, O Susan, Susan, lovely dear,

And Job himself curse God and die. My vows shall ever true remain;

What punishment all this must follow? Let me kiss off that falling tear;

Shall Arthur use him like King Tollo? We only part to meet again.

Shall David as Uriah slay him? Change, as ye list, ye winds; my heart shall be

Or dext'rous Deborah Sisera-him? The faithful compass that still points to thee.

Or shall Eliza lay a plot,

To treat him like her sister Scot? Believe not what the landmen say,

Shall William dub his better end, Who tempt with doubts thy constant mind.

Or Marlborough serve him like a friend? They'll tell thee, sailors, when away,

No!--none of these !-Heaven spare his life!
In every port a mistress find:

But send him, honest Job, thy wife!
Yes, yes, believe them when they tell thee so,
For thou art present wheresoe'er I go.
If to fair India's coast we sail,

FABLES.
Thy eyes are seen in diamonds bright,

THE EAGLE AND THE ASSEMBLY OP ANIMALS.
Thy breath is Afric's spicy gale,
Thy skin is ivory so white.

As Jupiter's all-seeing eye

Survey'd the worlds beneath the sky, Thus every beauteous object that I view,

From this small speck of earth were sent Wakes in my soul some charm of lovely Sue.

Murmurs and sounds of discontent; Though battle call me from thy arms,

For every thing alive complain'd, Let not my pretty Susan mourn;

That he the hardest life sustain'd. Though cannons roar, yet, safe from harms,

Jove calls his eagle. At the word, William shall to his dear return.

Before him stands the royal bird. Love turns aside the balls that round me fly,

The bird, obedient, from heaven's height, Lest precious tears should drop from Susan's eye.

Downward directs his rapid flight; The boatswain gave the dreadful word,

Then cited every living thing, The sails their swelling bosom spread;

To hear the mandates of his king. No longer must she stay aboard:

They kiss'd, she sigh’d, he hung his head. Her lessening boat unwilling rows to land:

Why this disorder? say the cause; Adieu! she cries; and wav'd her lily hand.

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“ Ungrateful creatures ! whence arise These murmurs which offend the skies?

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VERSES
To be placed under the Picture of SIR RICHARD

BLACKMORE, England's Arch-Poet, containing a

complete Catalogue of his Works.
See who ne'er was nor will be half read:
Who first sang Arthur, than sang Alfred,
Prais'd great Eliza in God's anger,
Till all true Englishmen cry'd, Hang her!
Made William's virtues wipe the bare a-
And hang'd up Marlborough in arras;
Then, hiss'd from earth, grew heavenly quite;
Made every reader curse the light:
Maul'd human wit in one thick satire,
Next in three books spoil'd human nature ;

For just are Jove's eternal laws.
Let each his discontent reveal;
To yon sour dog I first appeal.”

“ Hard is my lot, (the hound replies ;)
On what fleet nerves the greyhound flies!
While I, with weary step and slow,
O'er plains, and vales, and mountains, go.
The morning sees my chase begun,
Nor ends it till the setting sun.'

When (says the greyhound) I pursue,
My game is lost, or caught in view;
Beyond my sight the prey's secure;
The hound is slow but always sure;
And, had I his sagacious scent,
Jove ne'er had heard my discontent."

The lion cray'd the fox's art;
The fox the lion's force and heart:

The cock implor'd the pigeon's flight,

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