Around his shop the steely sparkles flew, When blue-ey'd Patty near his window came, 255 260 At first she coyly every kiss withstood, And all her cheek was flush'd with modest blood: With heedless nails he now surrounds her shoes, To save her steps from rains and piercing dews. She lik'd his soothing tales, his presents wore, 265 And granted kisses, but would grant no more. Yet winter chill'd her feet, with cold she pines, And on her cheek the fading rose declines; No more her humid eyes their lustre boast, And in hoarse sounds her melting voice is lost. This Vulcan saw, and in his heavenly thought. A new machine mechanic fancy wrought, Above the mire her shelter'd steps to raise, And bear her safely through the wintry ways. Strait the new engine on his anvil glows, 269 275 And the pale virgin on the patten rose. 280 Presents with female virtue must prevail. BOOK II. OF WALKING THE STREETS BY DAY. THUS far the Muse has trac'd, in useful lays, For ease and for dispatch the morning's best; 6 10 Before proud gates attending asses bray, And with the vellum thunder shake the pile, Now Industry awakes her busy sons; 20 Full charg'd with news the breathless hawkerruns: Shops open, coaches roll, carts shake the ground, And all the streets with passing cries resound. If cloth'd in black you tread the busy Town, 25 Or if distinguish'd by the reverend gown, Three trades avoid. Oft in the mingling press The barber's apron soils the sable dress: 30 Shun the perfumer's touch with cautious eye; Let due civilities be strictly paid; Jostle the feeble steps of trembling age: 45 And when the porter bends beneath his load, 51 55 But, above all, the groping blind direct, 61 He never turns again, nor dares oppose, 65 If drawn by business to a street unknown, Let the sworn porter point thee through the Town. Be sure observe the signs, for signs remain Like faithful landmarks to the walking train. Seek not from 'prentices to learn the way; Those fabling boys will turn thy steps astray: 70 Ask the grave tradesman to direct thee right; He ne'er deceives, but when he profits by't. 80 Where fam'd St. Giles's ancient limits spread, An inrail'd column rears its lofty head; Here to sev'n streets sev'n dials count the day, 75 And from each other catch the circling ray : Here oft the peasant, with inquiring face, Bewilder'd, trudges on from place to place; He dwells on every sign with stupid gaze, Enters the narrow alley's doubtful maze; Tries every winding court and street in vain, And doubles o'er his weary steps again. Thus hardy Theseus, with intrepid feet, Travers'd the dangerous labyrinth of Crete: But still the wandering passes forc'd his stay, Till Ariadne's clue unwinds the way: But do not thou, like that bold chief, confide Thy venturous footsteps to a female guide: She'll lead thee with delusive smiles along, Dive in thy fob, and drop thee in the throng. When waggish boys the stunted besom ply, To rid the slabby pavement, pass not by Ere thou hast held their hands; some heedless flirt Will overspread thy calves with spattering dirt. Where porters' hogsheads roll from carts aslope, Or brewers down steep cellars stretch the rope, 96 S2 85 90 100 105 Where counted billets are by carmen tost, 115 Now had the watchman walk'd his second round, When Cloacina hears the rumbling sound Of her brown lover's cart, for well she knows 125 That pleasing thunder: swift the goddess rose, * Cloacina was a goddess whose image Tatius (a king of the Sabines) found in the common-sewer, and not knowing what goddess it was, he called it Cloacina, from the place in which it was found, and paid to it divine honours. Lactant. 1, 20. Minuc. Fel. Oct. p. 232. |