TRIVIA.

Book II.

When fishy stalls with double store are laid ; Here Arundel's fam'd structure rear'd its frame,
The golden-bellied carp, the broad-finn'd maid, The street alone retains the empty name.
Red-speckled trouts, the salmon's silver jowl, Where Titian's glowing paint the canvas warm’d,
The jointed lobster, and unscaly sole,

And Raphael's fair design, with judgment charmid,
And luscious 'scallops to allure the tastes

Now hangs the bellman's song, and pasted here of rigid zealots to delicious fasts;

The color'd prints of Overton appear. Wednesdays and Fridays, you 'll observe from hence, where statues breath'd the works of Phidias' hands, • Days when our sires were doom'd to abstinence. A wooden pump, or lonely watch-house, stands.

When dirty waters from balconies drop, There Essex' stately pile adorn’d the shore,
And dextrous damsels twirl the sprinkling mop, There Cecil's, Bedford's, Villiers', now no more.
And cleanse the spatter'd sash, and scrub the stairs, Yet Burlington's fair palace still remains ;
Know Saturday's conclusive morn appears. Beauty within, without proportion, reigns.

Successive cries the seasons' change declare, Beneath his eye declining art revives,
And mark the monthly progress of the year. The wall with animated picture lives ;
Hark! how the streets with treble voices ring, There Handel strikes the strings, the melting strain
To sell the bounteous product of the Spring! Transports the soul, and thrills through every vein
Sweet-smelling flowers, and elder's early bud, There oft I enter, (but with cleaner shoes,)
With nettle's tender shoots, to cleanse the blood; For Burlington 's belov'd by every Muse.
And, when June's thunder cools the sultry skies, O ye associate walkers! O my friends!
E'en Sundays are profan'd by mack'rel cries. Upon your state what happiness attends!

Walnuts the fruiterer's hand in Autumn stain, What though no coach to frequent visit rolls, Blue plums and juicy pears augment his gain : Nor for your shilling chairmen sling their poles ; Next oranges the longing boys entice,

Yet still your nerves rheumatic pains desy,
To trust their copper fortunes to the dice.

Nor lazy jaundice dulls your saffron eye ;
When rosemary, and bays, the poet's crown, No wasting cough discharges sounds of death,
Are bawl'd, in frequent cries, through all the town, Nor wheezing asthma heaves in vain for breath :
Then judge the festival of Christmas near, Nor from your restless couch is heard the groan
Christmas, the joyous period of the year.

Of burning gout, or sedentary stone.
Now with bright holly all your temples strow, Let others in the jolting coach confide,
With laurel green, and sacred misletoe.

Or in the leaky boat the Thames divide;
Now, heaven born Charity! thy blessings shed; Or, box'd within the chair, contemn the street,
Bid meagre Want uprear her sickly head; And trust their safety to another's feet :
Bid shivering limbs be warm; let Plenty's bowl Still let me walk; for oft the sudden gale
In humble roofs make glad the needy soul! Ruffies the tide, and shifts the dangerous sail ;
See, see! the heaven-born maid her blessing shed; Then shall the passenger loo late deplore
Lo, meagre Want uprears her sickly head; The whelming billow, and the faithless oar;
Cloth'd are the naked, and the needy glad, The drunken chairman in the kennel spurns,
While selfish Avarice alone is sad.

The glasses shatters, and his charge o'erturns.
Proud coaches pass, regardless of the moan Who can recount the coach's various harms,
Of infant orphans, and the widow's groan; The legs disjointed, and the broken arms?
While Charity still moves the walker's mind, I've seen a beau, in some ill-fated hour,
His liberal purse relieves the lame and blind. When o'er the stones choak'd kennels swell the
Judiciously thy half-pence are bestow'd,

shower, Where the laborious beggar sweeps the road. In gilded chariot loll; he with disdain Whate'er you give, give ever at demand, Views spatter'd passengers all drench'd in rain. Nor let old age long stretch his palsied hand. With mud fill'd high, the rumbling cart draws near; Those who give late are importun'd each day, Now rule thy prancing steeds, lac'd charioteer: And still are teas'd, because they still delay. The dustman lashes on with spiteful rage, If e'er the miser durst his farthings spare, His ponderous spokes thy painted wheel engage; He thinly spreads them through the public square, Crush'd is thy pride, down falls the shrieking beau, Where, all beside the rail, rang'd beggars lie, The slabby pavement crystal fragments strow; And from each other catch the doleful cry; Black floods of mire th' embroider'd coat disgrace, With Heaven, for two-pence,cheaply wipes his score, And mud enwraps the honors of his face. Lists up his eyes, and hastes to beggar more. So, when dread Jove the son of Phæbus hurl'd,

Where the brass-knocker, wrapt in flannel band, Scar'd with dark thunder, to the nether world,
Forbids the thunder of the footman's hand; The headstrong coursers tore the silver reins,
Th' upholder, rueful harbinger of Death,

And the Sun's beamy ruin gilds the plains.
Waits with impatience for the dying breath ; If the pale walker pant with weakening ills,
As vultures o'er the camp, with hovering flight, His sickly hand is stor'd with friendly bills : [fame,
Snuff up the future carnage of the fight.

From hence he learns the seventh-born doctor's
Here canst thou pass, unmindful of a prayer, From hence he learns the cheapest tailor's name.
That Heaven in mercy may thy brother spare ? Shall the large mutton smoke upon your boards ?

Come, Fortescue, sincere, experienc'd friend, Such Newgate's copious market best affords.
Thy briefs, thy deeds, and ev'n thy fees, suspend; Wouldst thou with mighty beef augment thy meal ?
Come, let us leave the Temple's silent walls, Seek Leaden-hall; St. James's sends thee veal ;
Me business to my distant lodging calls ;

Thames-street gives cheeses ; Covent-garden, fruits ;
Through the long Strand together let us stray ; Moorfields, old books; and Monmouth-street, old
With thee conversing, I forget the way.

suits. Behold that narrow street which steep descends, Hence may'st thou well supply the wants of life, Whose building to the slimy shore extends ; Support thy family, and clothe thy wife.

2 A

Volumes on shelter'd stalls expanded lie, Summon at once thy courage, rouse thy care, And various science lures the learned eye; Stand firm, look back, be resolute, beware. The bending shelves with ponderous scholiasts Forth issuing from steep lanes, the collier's steeds groan,

Drag the black load ; another cart succeeds ; And deep divines, to modern shops unknown ; Team follows team, crowds hea p'd on crowds appear, Here, like the bee, that on industrious wing And wait impatient till the road grow clear. Collects the various odors of the Spring,

Now all the pavement sounds with tramping feet, Walkers at leisure, learning's flowers may spoil, And the mix'd hurry barricades the street. Nor watch the wasting of the midnight oil; Entangled here, the wagon's lengthen'd team May morals snatch from Plutarch's tatter'd page, Cracks the tough harness; here a ponderous beam A mildew'd Bacon, or Stagyra's sage:

Lies overturn’d athwart; for slaughter fed, Here sauntering prentices o'er Oiway weep, Here lowing bullocks raise their horned head. O'er Congreve smile, or over D'Ursey sleep; Now oaths grow loud, with coaches coaches jar, Pleas'd semptresses the Lock's fam'd Rape unfold; And the smart blow provokes the sturdy war; And Squirts* read Garth, till a pozenis grow cold. From the high box they whirl the thong around, O Lintot! let my labors obvious lie,

And with the twining lash their shins resound: Rang'd on thy stall, for every curious eye! Their rage ferments, more dangerous wounds they So shall the poor these precepts gratis know,

try, And to my verse their fulure safeties owe. And the blood gushes down their painful eye.

What walker shall his mean ambition fix And now on foot the frowning warriors light, On the false lustre of a coach and six ?

And with their ponderous fists renew the fight; Let the vain virgin, lur'd by glaring show, Blow answers blow, their cheeks are smeard with Sigh for the liveries of th' embroider'd beau.

blood, See yon bright chariot on its braces swing, Till down they fall, and grappling roll in mud. With Flanders mares, and on an arched spring. So, when two boars, in wild Ytene * bred, That wretch, lo gain an equipage and place, Or on Westphalia's fattening chestnuts fed, Betray'd his sister to a lewd embrace ;

Gnash their sharp tusks, and, rous'd with equal fire, This coach, that with the blazon'd 'scutcheon glows, Dispute the reign of some luxurious mire ; Vain of his unknown race, the coxcomb shows. In the black flood they wallow o'er and o'er, Here the brib'd lawyer, sunk in velvet, sleeps ; Till their arm'd jaws distil with foam and gore. The starving orphan, as he passes, weeps ;

Where the mob gathers, swiftly shoot along, There flames a fool, begirt with tinsel slaves, Nor idly mingle in the noisy throng : Who wastes the wealth of a whole race of knaves; Lurd by the silver hilt, amid the swarm, That other, with a clustering train behind, The subtle artist will thy side disarm. Owes his new honors to a sordid mind!

Nor is the flaxen wig with safety worn; This next in courl-fidelity excels,

High on the shoulder, in a basket borne, The public rifles, and his country sells.

Lurks the sly boy, whose hand, to rapine bred, May the proud chariot never be my fate,

Plucks off the curling honors of thy head. If purchas'd at so mean, so dear a rate !

Here dives the skulking thief, with practis'd sleight, Or rather give me sweet content on foot,

And unfelt fingers make thy pocket light. Wrapt in my virtue, and a good surtout!

Where's now the watch, with all its trinkets, flown?

And thy late snuff-box is no more thy own.
Book III.

But, lo! his bolder thefts some tradesman spies,

Swift from his prey the scudding lurcher flies; Of walking the Streets by Night.

Dext'rous he 'scapes the coach with nimble bounds, O Trivia, goddess ! leave these low abodes, Whilst every honest tongue “stop thief!" resounds. And traverse o'er the wide ethereal roads ; So speeds the wily fox, alarm'd by sear, Celestial queen! put on thy robes of light, Who lately filch'd the turkey's callow care ; Now Cynthia nam’d, fair regent of the night. Hounds following hounds grow louder as he flies, At sight of thee, the villain sheathes his sword, And injur'd tenants join the hunter's cries. Nor scales the wall, to steal the wealthy hoard. Breathless, he stumbling falls. Ill-fated boy! O may thy silver lamp from Heaven's high bower Why did not honest work thy youth employ? Direct my footsteps in the midnight hour! Seiz'd by rough hands, he's draggd amid the rous

When Night first bids the twinkling stars appear, And stretch'd beneath the pump's incessant spout Or with her cloudy vest enwraps the air,

Or plung'd in miry ponds, he gasping lies, Then swarms the busy street; with caution tread, Mud chokes his mouth, and plasters o'er his eyes. Where the shop-windows + falling threat thy head; Let not the ballad-singer's shrilling strain Now laborers home return, and join their strength Amid the swarm thy listening ear detain: To bear the tottering plank, or ladder's length; Guard well thy pocket; for these Syrens stand Still fix thy eyes intent upon the throng,

To aid the labors of the diving hand ; And, as the passes open, wind along.

Confederate in the cheat, they draw the throng, Where the fair columns of St. Clement stand, And cambric handkerchiefs reward the song. Whose straiten'd bounds encroach upon the Strand ; But soon as coach or cart drive ratiling on, Where the low penthouse bows the walker's head, The rabble part, in shoals they backward run. And the rough pavement wounds the yielding tread; So Jove's loud bolts the mingled war divide, Where not a post protects the narrow space, And Greece and Troy retreat on either side And, strung in twines, combs dangle in thy face ; If the rude throng pour on with furious pace,

And hap to break thee from a friend's embrace, * An apothecary's boy, in the Dispensary. * A species of window now almost forgotten. N.

• New-Forest in Hampshire, anciently so called.

Swop short; nor struggle through the crowd in vain, The laws have set him bounds; his servile feet
But watch with careful eye the passing train. Should ne'er encroach where posts defend the street
Yet I, (perhaps too fond,) if chance the tide Yet who the footman's arrogance can quell,
Tumultuous bear my partner from my side, Whose flambeau gilds the sashes of Pall-Mall,
Impatient venture back; despising harm,

When in long rank a train of torches flame,
I force my passage where the thickest swarm. To light the midnight visits of the dame ?
Thus his lost bride the Trojan sought in vain Others, perhaps, by happier guidance led,
Through night, and arms, and flames, and hills of May where the chairman rests with safety tread ;
slain.

Whene'er I pass, their poles (unseen below)

I
Thus Nisus wander'd o'er the pathless grove, Make my knee tremble with a jarring blow.
To find tlfe brave companion of his love.

If wheels bar up the road, where streets are crost,
The pathless grove in vain he wanders o'er : With gentle words the coachman's ear accost :
Euryalus, alas! is now no more.

He ne'er the threat or harsh command obeys,
That walker who, regardless of his pace, But with contempt thè spatter'd shoe surveys.
Turns oft to pore upon the damnsel's face, Now man with utmost fortitude thy soul,
From side to side by thrusting elbows tost, To cross the way where carts and coaches roll;
Shall strike his aching breast against a post; Yet do not in thy hardy skill confide,
Or water, dash'd from fishy stalls, shall stain Nor rashly risk the kennel's spacious stride;
His hapless coat with spirts of scaly rain.

Stay till afar the distant wheel you hear,
But, if unwarily he chance to stray

Like dying thunder in the breaking air;
Where twirling turnstiles intercept the way, Thy foot will slide upon the miry stone,
The thwarting passenger shall force them round, And passing coaches crush thy tortur'd bone,
And beat the wretch half breathless to the ground. Or wheels inclose the road ; on either hand,

Let constant vigilance thy footsteps guide, Pent round with perils, in the midst you stand,
And wary circumspection guard thy side ; And call for aid in vain; the coachman swears,
Then shalt thou walk, unharm'd, the dangerous And carmen drive, unmindful of thy prayers.
night,

Where wilt thou turn? ah! whilber wilt thou
Nor need th' officious link-boy's smoky light

fly?
Thou never wilt attempt to cross the road, On every side the pressing spokes are nigh.
Where ale-house benches rest the porter's load, So sailors, while Charybdis gulf they shun,
Grievous to heedless shins ; no barrow's wheel, Amaz'd, on Scylla's craggy dangers run.
That bruises oft the truant school-boy's heel,

Be sure observe where brown Ostrea slands,
Behind thee rolling, with insidious pace,

Who boasts her shelly ware from Wallfeet sands;
Shall mark thy stocking with a miry trace. There may'st thou pass with safe vnmiry feet,
Let not thy venturous steps approach too nigh, Where the rais'd pavement leads athwart the street
Where, gaping wide, low steepy cellars lie. If where Fleet-ditch with muddy current flows,
Should thy shoe wrench aside, down, down you fall, You chance to roam, where oyster-tubs in rows
And overturn the scolding buckster's stall; Are rang'd beside the posts ; there stay thy haste,
The scolding huckster shall not o'er thee moan, And with the savory fish indulge thy taste :
But pence exact for nuts and pears o'erthrown.- The damsel's knife the gaping shell commands,

Though you through cleanlier alleys wind by day, while the salt liquor streams between her hands.
To shun the hurries of the public way,

The man had sure a palate cover'd o'er
Yet ne'er to those dark paths by night retire ; With brass or steel, that on the rocky shore
Mind only safety, and contemn the mire.

First broke the oozy oyster's pearly coat,
Then no impervious courts thy haste detain, And risk'd the living morsel down his throat.
Nor sneering alewives bid thee turn again. What will not Luxury taste ? Earth, sea, and air,

Where Lincoln's-inn, wide space, is rail'd around, Are daily ransack'd for the bill of fare!
Cross not with venturous step; there oft is found Blood stuff'd in skins is British Christians' food!
The lurking thief, who, while the daylight shone, And France robs marshes of the croaking brood !
Made the walls echo with his begging tone; Spungy morels in strong ragouts are found,
That crutch, which late compassion movid, shall And in the soup the slimy snail is drown'd.
wound

When from high spouts the dashing torrents fall,
Thy bleeding head, and fell thee to the ground. Ever be watchful to maintain the wall;
Though thou art tempted by the link-man's call, For shouldst thou quit thy ground, the rushing
Yet trust him not along the lonely wall;

throng
In the mid-way he'll quench the flaming brand, Will with impetuous fury drive along ;
And share the booty with the pilfering band. All press to gain those honors thou hast lost,
Still keep the public streets, where oily rays, And rudely shove thee far without the post.
Shot from the crystal lamp, o'erspread the ways. Then to retrieve the shed you strive in vain,
Happy Augusta! law-defended town!

Draggled all o'er, and soak'd in fonds of rain.
Here no dark lanterns shade the villain's frown; Yet rather bear the shower, and toils of mud,
No Spanish jealousies thy lanes infest,

Than in the doubtful quarrel risk thy blood.
Nor Roman vengeance stabs th' unwary breast; O think on Edipus' detested state,
Here Tyranny ne'er lifts her purple hand, And by his woes be warn'd to shun thy fate.
But Liberty and Justice guard the land ;

Where three roads join'd, he met his sire un.
No bravoes here profess the bloody trade,

known;
Nor is the church the murderer's refuge made. (Unhappy sire, but more unhappy son!)

Let not the chairman, with assuming stride, Each claim'd the way, their swords the strife decide
Press near the wall, and rudely thrust thy side · The hoary monarch fell, he groan'd, and died !

Hence sprung the fatal plague that thinn'd thy His numerous lowing herd; his herds he sold, reign,

And his deep leathernd pocket bagg’d with gold. Thy cursed incest! and thy children slain! Drawn by a fraudful nymph, he gaz'd, he sigh'd : Hence wert thou doom'd in endless night to stray Unmindful of his home, and distant bride, Thro' Theban streets, and cheerless grope thy way. She leads the willing victim to his doom,

Contemplate, mortal, on thy fleeting years; Through winding alleys, to her cobweb room. See, with black train the funeral pomp appears! Thence thro' the streets he reels from post to post, Whether some heir attends in sable state,

Valiant with wine, nor knows his treasure lost. And mourns, with outward grief, a parent's fate; The vagrant wretch th' assembled watchmen spies Or the fair virgin, nipt in beauty's bloom,

He waves his hanger, and their poles defies ; A crowd of lovers follow to her tomb:

Deep in the round-house pent, all night he snores, Why is the hearse with 'scutcheons blazon'd round, And the next morn in vain his fate deplores. And with the nodding plume of ostrich crown'd ? Ah, hapless swain! unus'd to pains and ills! No: the dead know it not, nor profit gain; Canst thou forego roast-beef for nauseous pills ! It only serves to prove the living vain.

How wilt thou lift to Heaven thy eyes and hands, How short is life! how frail is human trust! When the long scroll the surgeon's fecs demands ! Is all this pomp for laying dust to dust ?

Or else (ye gods, avert that worst disgrace!) Where ihe nail'd hoop defends the painted stall, Thy ruin'd nose falls level with thy face ! Brush not thy sweeping skirt too near the wall: Then shall thy wise thy lothesome kiss disdain, Thy heedless sleeve will drink the color d oil, And wholesome neighbors from thy mug refrain. And spot indelible thy pocket soil.

Yet there are watchmen, who with friendly light Has not wise Nature strung the legs and feet Will teach thy reeling steps to tread aright; With firmest nerves, design'd to walk the street ? For sixpence will support thy helpless arm, Has she not given us hands to grope aright, And home conduct thee, safe from nightly harm Amidst the frequent dangers of the night? But, if they shake their lanterns, from afar And think'st thou not the double nostril meant, To call their brethren to confederate war, To warn from oily woes by previous scent? When rakes resist their power; if hapless you

Who can the various city frauds* recite, Should chance to wander with the scouring crew, With all the petty rapines of the night?

Though Fortune yield thee captive, ne'er despair, Who now the guinea-drupper's bait regards, But seek the constable's considerate ear; Trick'd by the sharper's dice, or juggler's cards ? He will reverse the watchman's harsh decree, Why should I warn thee ne'er to join the fray, Mov'd by the rhetoric of a silver fee. Where the sham quarrel interrupts the way? Thus, would you gain some favorite courtier's word, Lives there in these our days so soft a clown, Fee not the petty clerks, but bribe my lord. Brav'd by the bully's oaths, or threatening frown? Now is the time that rakes their revels keep; I need not strict enjoin the pocket's care,

Kindlers of riot, enemies of sleep. When from the crowded play thou lead'st the fair ; His scatter'd pence the flying nicker* flings. Who has not here or watch or snuff-box lost, And with the copper shower the casement rings. Or handkerchiefs that India's shuttle boast ? Who has not heard the scourer's midnight same? 0! may thy virtue guard thee through the roads Who has not trembled at the Mohock's name? Of Drury's mazy courts, and dark abodes ! Was there a watchman took his hourly rounds, The harlots' guilesul paths, who nightly stand Safe from their blows, or new-invented wounds ? Where Catharine-street descends into the Strand! I pass their desperate deeds, and mischiefs done, Say, vagrant Muse, their wiles and subtle arts, Where from Snow-hill black steepy torrents run; To lure the strangers' unsuspecting hearts : How matrons, hoop'd within the hogshead's womb, So shall our youth on healthful sinews tread, Were tumbled furious thence; the rolling tomb And city cheeks grow warm with rural red. O'er the stones thunders, bounds from side to side ;

'Tis she who nightly strolls with sauntering pace, So Regulus, to save his country, died. No stubborn stays her yielding shape embrace ; Where a dim gleam the paly lantern throws Beneath the lamp her tawdry ribbons glare, O'er the mid pavement, heapy rubbish grows; The new-sconr'd manteau, and the slattern air; Or arched vaults their gaping jaws extend, High-draggled petticoats her travels show, Or the dark caves to common shores descend, And hollow cheeks with artful blushes glow; Oft by the winds extinct the signal lies, With flattering sounds she soothes the credulous Or smother'd in the glimmering socket dies,

Ere Night has half roll'd round her ebon throne; "My noble captain! charmer! love! my dear!" In the wide gulf the shatter'd coach, o'erthrown, In riding-hood near tavern-doors she plies, Sinks with the snorting steeds; the reins are broke, Or muffled pinners hide her livid eyes.

And from the crackling axle flies the spoke. With empty band box she delights to range, So, when fam'd Eddystone's far-shooting ray, And feigns a distant errand from the 'Change :

That led the sailor through the stormy way, Nay, she will ost the Quaker's hood profane, Was from its rocky roots by billows torn, And trudge demure the rounds of Drury-lane. And the high turret in the whirlwind borne ; She darts from sarcenet ambush wily leers, Fleets bulg'd their sides against the craggy land, Twitches thy sleeve, or with familiar airs

And pitchy ruins blacken'd all the strand. Her fan will pat thy cheek; these snares disdain, Who then through night would hire the harness'd Nor gaze behind thee, when she turns again.

steed? I knew a yeoman, who, for thirst of gain, And who would choose the rattling wheel for speed ? To the great city drove, from Devon's plain,

* Gentlemen who delighted to break windows with • Various cheats formerly in practice.

hall-pence.

ear,

MISCELLANEOUS.

But hark! Distress, with screaming voice, draws

SWEET WILLIAM'S FAREWELL TO nigher, And wakes the slumbering street with cries of fire.

BLACK-EYED SUSAN.
At first a glowing red enwraps the skies,

All in the Downs the feet was moor'd,
And, borne by winds, the scattering sparks arise ;
From beam to beam the fierce contagion spreads;

The streamers waving in the wind,

When Black-ey'd Susan came aboard.
The spiry flames now lift aloft their heads;
Through the burst sash a blazing deluge pours,

“Oh! where shall I my true-love find ?

Tell me, ye jovial sailors, tell me true,
And splitting tiles descend in rattling showers.
Now with thick crowds th' enlighten'd pavement

If my sweet William sails among the crew.”
swarms,

William, who high upon the yard The fireman sweats beneath his crooked arms;

Rock'd with the billow to and fro, A leathern casque his venturous head defends,

Soon as her well-known voice he heard,
Boldly he climbs where thickest smoke ascends ;
Mov'd by the mother's streaming eyes and prayers, The cord slides swiftly through his glowing hands,

He sigh'd, and cast his eyes below:
The helpless infant through the flame he bears,
With no less virtue, than through hostile fire

And (quick as lightning) on the deck he stands. The Dardan hero bore his aged sire.

So the sweet lark, high pois'd in air, See, forceful engines spout their levell'd streams,

Shuts close his pinions to his breast, To quench the blaze that runs along the beams ;

(If chance his mate's shrill call he hear) The grappling hook plucks rafters from the walls,

And drops at once into her nest.
And heaps on heaps the smoky ruin falls;
Blown by strong winds, the fiery tempest roars,

The noblest captain in the British fleet
Bears down new walls, and pours along the floors; Might envy William's lip those kisses sweet.
The Heavens are all a-blaze, the face of Night

“O Susan, Susan, lovely dear, Is cover'd with a sanguine dreadful light.

My vows shall ever true remain; 'Twas such a light involv'd thy towers, O Rome!

Let me kiss off that falling tear;
The dire presage of mighty Cæsar's doom,
When the Sun veil'd in rust his mourning head,

We only part to meet again.
And frightful prodigies the skies o'erspread.

Change, as ye list, ye winds; my heart shall be Hark! the drum thunders! far, ye crowds, retire :

The faithful compass that still points to thee. Behold! the ready match is tipt with fire,

“ Believe not what the landmen say The nitrous store is laid, the smutty train, With running blaze, awakes the barreld grain ;

Who tempt with doubts thy constant mind.

They'll tell thee, sailors, when away,
Flames sudden wrap the walls; with sullen sound
The shatter'd pile sinks on the smoky ground.

In every port a mistress find :

Yes, yes, believe them when they tell thee so, So, when the years shall have revolv'd the date,

For thou art present wheresoe'er I go.
Th' inevitable hour of Naples' fate,
Her sapp'd foundations shall with thunders shake,

“ If to fair India's coast we sail,
And heave and toss upon the sulphurous lake ;
Earth's womb at once the fiery food shall rend;

Thy eyes are seen in diamonds bright;

Thy breath is Afric's spicy gale,
And in th' abyss her plunging towers descend.
Consider, reader, what fatigues I've known,

Thy skin is ivory so white.
The toils, the perils, of the wintery town;

Thus every beauteous object that I view, What riots seen, what bustling crowds I bore,

Wakes in my soul some charm of lovely Sue. How oft I cross'd where carts and coaches roar;

“Though battle call me from thy arms, Yet shall I bless my labors, if mankind Their future safety from my dangers find.

Let not my pretty Susan mourn; Thus the bold traveller (inur'd to toil,

Though cannons roar, yet, safe from harms,

William shall to his dear return.
Whose steps have printed Asia's desert soil,
The barbarous Arabs' haunt; or shivering crost

Love turns aside the balls that round me fly, Dark Greenland's mountains of eternal frost;

Lest precious tears should drop from Susan's eye Whom Providence, in length of years, restores To the wish'd harbor of his native shores)

The boatswain gave the dreadful word, Sets forth his journals to the public view,

The sails their swelling bosom spread ; To caution, by his woes, the wandering crew.

No longer must she stay aboard :
And now complete my generous labors lie,

They kiss'd, she sigli’d, he hung his head. Finish'd, and ripe for immortality.

Her lessening boat unwilling rows to land : Death shall entomb in dust this mouldering frame,

Adieu!" she cries; and wav'd her lily hand.
But never reach th' eternal part, my fame.
When W— and G-, mighty names !* are dead;
Or but at Chelsea under custards read;
When critics crazy band boxes repair ;

A BALLAD,
And tragedies, turn'd rockets, bounce in air;
High rais'd on Fleet-street posts, consign'd to Fame,

FROM THE WHAT-D'YE-CALL-IT.
This work shall shine, and walkers bless my name. 'Twas when the seas were roaring

With hollow blasts of wind,

A damsel lay deploring, • Probably Ward and Gildon.-N.

All on a rock reclin'd.

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