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A narrow Pass there is, with Houses low ;
Where ever and anon, the Stream is ey'd,
And many a Boat soft sliding to and fro.
There oft are heard the notes of Infant Woe,

5 The short thick Sob, loud Scream, and fhriller

Squall: How can ye, Mothers, vex your children so? Some play, some eat, some cack against the wall, And as they crouchen low, for bread and butter call.


And on the broken pavement, here and there,
Doth many a stinking Sprat and herring lie;
A brandy and tobacco snop is near,
And hens, and dogs, and hogs are feeding by ;
And here a sailor's jacket hangs to dry.
At ev'ry door are sun-burnt matrons seen,

Mending old nets to catch the scaly fry,
Now singing fhrill, and scolding eft between;
Şcolds answer foul-moath'd fcolds; bad neighbour-

hood I ween.


The snappish cur, (the passengers annoy)
Close at my heel with yelping treble Alies ;
The whimp’ring girl, and hoarser-screaming boy,
Join to the yelping treble, fhrilling cries;
The scolding Quean to louder notes doth rise,
And her full pipes those fhrilling cries confound;
To her full pipes the grunting hog replies ;
The grunting hogs alarm the neighbours round,
And curs, girls, boys, and scolds, in the deep base are

Hard by a Sty, beneath a roof of thatch,
Dwelt Obloquy, who in her early days
Baskets of fish at Billinsgate did watch,

30 Cod, whiting, oyster, mackrel, sprat, or plaice: There learn'd she speech from tongues that never

cease. Slander beside her, like a Mag-pie, chatters, With Envy, (spitting Cat) dread foe to peace; Like a curs'd Cur, Malice before her clatters, 33 Andvexing ev'ry wight, tearsclothes and all to tatters.


Her dugs were mark'd by ev'ry Collier's hand,
Her mouth was black as bull-dogs at the stall:
She scratched, bit, and spar'd ne lace ne band,
And bitch and rogue her answer was to all ;

Nay, e'en the parts of shame by name would call:
Yea, when the passed by or lane or nook,

who turn'd him to the Wall, And by his hand obscene the porter took, Nor ever did aikance like modeft Virgin look. 45

the man

VI. Such place hath Deptford, navy-building town, Woolwich and Wapping, smelling strong of pitch; Such Lambeth, envy of each band and gown, And Twick'nam such, which fairer scenes enrich, Grots, ftatues, urns, and Jo-n's Dog and Bitch, Ne village is without, on either side, All up the silver Thames, or all adown; Ne Richmond's felf, from whose tall front are ey'd Vales, spires, meandring streams, and Windfor's

tow'ry pride.



Of a Lady singing to her Lute.

a FA AIR Charmer, cease, nor make your voice's

prize A heart resignd the conquest of your eyes: Well might, alas ! that threatned vessel fail, Which winds and lightning both at once affail. We were too bleft with these inchanting lays, 5 Which must be heav'nly when an Angel plays: But killing charms your lover's death contrive, Left heav'nly music should be heard alive. Orpheus could charm the trees, but thus a tree, Taught by your hand, can charm no less than he: A poet made the filent wood pursue, This vocal wood had drawn the Poet too.

On a fan of the Author's design, in

which was painted the story of CEPHALUS and PROCRIS, with the Motto, AURA VENI.


OME, gentle Air! th’Æolian fhepherd said,

While Procris panted in the secret ihade; Come, gentle Air, the fairer Delia cries, While at her feet her swain expiring lies. Lo the glad gales o’er all her beauties stray, Breathe on her lips, and in her bosom play! In Delia's hand this toy is fatal found, Nor could that fabled dart more surely wound: Both gifts destructive to the givers prove; Alike both lovers fall by those they love. Yet guiltless too this bright destroyer lives, At random wounds, nor knows the wounds the gives : She views the story with attentive eyes, And pities Procris, while her lover dies,


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