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And senseless for a time, I stand; but soon, | Releases me: ah! freedom that must end
By friendly jog or neighbouring whisper rous'd, With thec, declining Sol! All hail, ye sires
Obey the dire injunction; straight I loose For sanctity renown'd, whose glorious names
Depending brogues, and mount the lofty throne in large conspicuous characters portray'd,
Indignant, or the back oblique ascend

Adorn the annual chronologic page
Of sorrowful compeer: nor long delays Of Wing or Partridge; oft, when sore oppressid
The monarch, from his palace stalking down, With dire calamities, the glad return
With visage all inflam'd'; his sable robe Of your triumphant festivals hath cheer'd
Sweepingin lengthening folds along the ground: My drooping soul. Nor be thy name forgot,
He shakes his sceptre, and th' impending Illustrious George! for much to thee I owe
scourge

Of heart-felt rapture, as with loyal zeal Brandishes high; nor tears nor shrieks avail; Glowing, I pile the crackling bonfire high, But with impetuous fury it descends,

Or hurl the mountain rocket through the air, Imprinting horrid wounds with fatal Aow Or fiery whizzing serpent : thus thy name of blood attended, and convulsive pangs. | Shall still be honor'd, as through future years

Curs'd be the wretch, for ever doom'd to bear | The circling seasons roll their festive round. Infernal whippings; he, whose savage hands Sometimes, by dire compulsive hunger press'd, First grasp'd these barbarous weapons, bitter I spring the neighbouring fence, and scale the cause

trunk Of foul disgrace and many a dolorous groan Of apple-tree; or wide, o'er flowery lawns To hapless school-boy!--Could it not suffice By hedge or thicket, bend my hasty steps, . I groan'd and toild beneath the merciless weight Intent, with secret ambush, to surprise By stern relentless tyranny impos'd;

The straw-built nest and unsuspecting brood But scourges, too, and cudgels were reserv'd, 1 Of thrush or bull-finch ; oft with watchful ken To goad iny harrow'd sides: this wretched life Eyeing the backward lawns, lest liostile glance Loading with hearier ills ? a life expos'd | Observe my footsteps, while each rustling leaf To all the woes of hunger, toil, distress; Stirr'd by the gentle gale alarms my fears : Cat off from erery genial source of bliss Then, parch'd beneath the burning heats of From every bland amusement, wont to soothe noon, The youthful breast; except when father Time, I plunge into the limpid stream that laves In joyful change, rolls round the festive hour, The silent vale; or, on its grassy banks, That gives this meagre, pining figure back Beneath some oak's majestic shade recline, To parent fondness, and its native roofs ! | Envying the vagrant fishes, as they pass, Fird with the thought, then, then, my tower. Their boon of freedom, till the distant sound ing soul

Of tolling curfew warns me to depart. Rises superior to its load, and spurns

Thus under tyrant pow'r I groan, oppress'd Its proud oppressors; frantie with delight, | With worse than slavery; yet my free-born soul My fancy riots in successive scenes

Her native warmth forgets not, nor will brook Of bliss and pleasures : plans and schemes are Menace, or taunt, from proud insulting peer:

But summons to the field the doughty foe How blest the fleeting moments to improve, In single combat, 'midst th' impartial throng, Nor lose one portion of so rare a boon.

There to decide our fate; oft too, inflam'd But soon, too soon, the glorious scenes are With mutual rage, two rival armies meet fled,

[state Of youthful warriors; kindling at the sight, Scarce one short moon enjoy'd ; (oh! transient | My soul is fill'd with vast heroic thoughts, Of sublunary bliss !) by bitter change,

Trusting in martial glory to surpass And other scenes succeeded. What herce pangs Roman or Grecian chief: instant, with shouts, Then racks my soul! what ceaseless foods of The mingling squadrons join the horrid fray; grief

No need of cannon, or the murderous steel, Rush down my cheeks, while strong convulsive Wide wasting nature : rage our arms supplies, throbs

Fragments of rock are hurld, and showers of Heave all my frame, and choke the power of stones speech!

Obscure the day; nor less the brawny arm Forlorn I sigh, nor heed the gentle voice Or knotted club avail, high in the midst Of friend or stranger, who, with soothing words Are seen the mighty chiefs, through hosts of foes And slender gift, would fain beguile my woes: | Mowing their way: and now with tenfold rage In vain, for what can aught avail to soothe | The combat burns, full many a sanguine stream Such raging anguish? Oft with sudden glance Distains the field, and many a veteran brave Before my eyes in all its horror glares

Lies prostrate; loud triumphant shouts ascend That well-known form, and oft I seem to hear By turns from either host; each claims the palm The thundering scourge-ah me! e'en now I Of glorious conquest; nor till night's dun shades Its deadly venom, raging as the pangs [feel Involve the sky, the doubtsul conflict ends. That tore Alcides, when the burning vest Thus, when rebellion shook the thrones of Prey'd on his wasted sides.-At length, return'd heaven, Within these hated walls, again I mourn | And all th' eternal powers in battle met, A sullen prisoner, till the wish'd approach High o'er the rest, with vast gigantic strides; Of joyous holiday or festive play

The godlike leaders on th' enibatlled plain

laid

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Came towering, breathing forth revenge and I keep in my pocket, tied about my middle, next
Nor less terrific join'd the inferior hosts [fate : 1 to my smock.
Of angel warriors, when encountering hills So when I went to put up my purse, as God
Tore the rent conclave; flashing with the blaze

would have it, my smock was unripp'd, Of fiery arms, and lightnings not of Jove; | And, instead of putting it into my pocket, down All heaven resounded, and the astonish'd deep

it slipp'd! Of chaos bellow'd with the monstrous roar. Then the bell rung, and I went down to put

my Lady to bed ;

And, God knows, I thought my money was as $ 228. Written in a Lady's Ivory Table Book,

safe as my maidenhead. 161,9.

Swirt.

So, when I came up again, I found my pocket
Do,

feel very light: Peruse my leaves through every part, But when I search'd, and miss'd my purse, Lord, And think thou seest my owner's heart,

I thought I should have sunk outright. Scrawl'd o'er with tries thus, and quite Lord ! madain, says Mary, how d'ye do? InAs hard, as senseless, and as light;

deed, says I, never worse : Expos'd to every coxcomb's eyes,

But pray, Mary, can you tell what I have done Bui hid with caution from the wise.

with my purse? Here you may read, “ Dear charming saint !" Lord help me!' said Mary, I never stirr'd out of Beneath, “A new receipt for paint :"

this place. Here, in beau-spelling, “ Tru tel deth ;" Nay, said I, I had it in Lady Betty's chamber, There, in her own, “ For an el breth ;"

that's a plain case. Here, “ Lovely nymph, pronounce my doom!" So Mary got me to bed, and cover'd meupwarm; There, “A safe way to use perfume :"

However, she stole away my garters, that I Here, a page fill'd with billet-doux,

might do myself no harm. On t' other side, “ Laid out for shoes." So I tumbled and toss'd all night, as you may “ Madam, I die without your grace."

very well think,

[wink, “ Item, for half a yard of lace.”

But hardly ever set my eyes together, or slept a Who that had wit would place it here, So I was a-dream'd, methought, that we went For every peeping fop 10 jeer?

and search'd the folks round, In pow'r of spittle and a clout,

And in a corner of Mrs. Duke'st box, tied in a Whene'er he please to blot it out :

rag, the money was found. And then, to heighten the disgrace,

So next morning we told Whittle, and he fell Clap his own nonsense in the place.

a-swearing: Whoe'er expects to hold his part

Then my dame Wadgar $ came; and she, yos In such a book, and such a heart,

know, is thick of hearing. If he be wealthy, and a fool,

Dame, said I, as loud as I could bawl, do you Is in all points the fittest tool;

know what a loss I have had ? Of whom it may be justly said,

| Nay, said she, my Lord Colway's 4 folks are He's a gold pencil tipp'd with lead.

all very sad; For my Lord Dromedary # comes o' Tuesday

without fail. $ 229. Mrs. Harris's Petition. 1699.

Pugh! said I, but that's not the business that I

Says Cary+t, says he, I have been a servant this To their Excellencies the Lords Justices of

five-and-twenty years come spring, Ireland*, the humble petition of Frances Harris, And in all the places I liv'd I never heard of (Who must starve, and die a maid, if it mis

such a thing. carries),

1 Yes, says the 11 steward, I remember, wben I Humbly showeth,

was at my Lady Shrewsbury's, That I went to warm myself in Lady Betty'st Such a thing as this happen'd just about the chamber, because I was cold;

time of gooseberries. And I had in a purse seven pounds four shillings So I went to the party suspected, and I found

and six-pence, besides farthings, in mo her full of grief:
ney and gold :

(Now you must know, of all things in the So, because I had been buying things for my world, I hate a thief.) Lady last night,

(right. | However, I was resolu'd to bring the discourse I was resolv'd to tell my money to see if it was slily about : Now you must know, because my trunk has a Mrs. Dukes, said I, here's an ugly accident has very bad lock,

happen'd out: Therefore all the money I have, which, God 'Tis not that I value the money three skips of a knows, is a very small stock,

louse fiH ; • The Earls of Berkeley and of Galway. + Lady Betty Berkeley, afterwards Germaine. 1 W'ife to one of the footmen.

|| The Earl of Berkeley's valet. $ The old deaf housekeeper.

Galway ** The Earl of Drogheda, who, with the Primate, was to succeed the two Earls. ++ Clerk of the kitchen. 11 Ferris. |||| An usual saying of hers.

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But the thing I stand upon is the credit of the And, over and above, that I may have your Exhouse.

..cellencies letter, "Tis true, seven pounds, four shillings, and six- With an order for the chaplain aforesaid, or, in

pence, makes a great hole in iny wages : 1 stead of him, a better : Besides, as they say, service is no inheritance in And then your poor petitioner, both night and these ages.

day, Now, Mrs. Dukes, you know, and every body Or the chaplain (for 'tis his trade), as in duty understands

bound, shall ever pray. That, though'tis hard to judge, yet money can't go without hands.

$ 230. A Description of the Morning. 1709. The devil take me! said she (blessing herself) Now hardly here and there a hackney.coach if e'er I saw't.

Appearing, show'd the ruddy morn's approach. So she roar'd like a bedlam, as though I had Now Betty from her master's bed had Hown, call'd her all to nought.

And softly stole to discompose her own. So you know, what could I say to her any more? The slipshod 'prentice from his master's door Ie'en left her, and came away as wise as I was Had par'd the dirt, and sprinkled round the floor. before.

Now Moll had whirl'd her mop with dext'rous Well; but then they would have had me gone Prepar'd to scrub the entry and the stairs. (airs, to the cunning man !

The youth with broomy stumps began to trace No, said I,'tis the same thing, the chaplain will The kennel's edge, where wheels had worn the be here anon.

place.

[deep, So the chaplain * came in: now the servants The small-coal man was heard with cadence say he is my sweetheart,

Till drown'd in shriller notes of chimney-sweep. Because he is always in my chamber, and I al- | Duns at his Lordship's gate began to meet, ways take his part.

And brick-dust Moll had scream'd through balf So, as the devil would have it, before I was the street. aware, out I blunder'd,

The turnkey now his flock returning sees, Parson, said I, can you cast a nativity when a Duly let out a-nights to steal for fees. body's plunder'd ?

The watchful bailiffs take their silent stands, (Now you must know he hates to be call'd par. And school-boys lag with satchels in their hands.

son like the devil!) Truly, says he, Mrs. Nab, it might become you $ 231. A Description of a City Shower. In to be more civil !

Imitation of Vergil's Georgics. 1710. If your money begone, as a learned divine says, CAREFUL observers may foretel the hour, d'ye see,

By sure prognostics, when to dread a show'r. You are no text for my handling, so take that While rain depends, the pensive cat gives o'er from me:

Her frolics, and pursues her tail no more. I was never taken for a conjurer before, I'd have | Returning home at night, you'll find the sink you to know.

| Strike your offended sense with double stink. Lord, said I, don't be angry, I'm sure I never If you be wise, then go not far to dine; thought you so;

You'll spend in coach-hire more than save in You know I honor the cloth; I design to be a wine. parson's wife;

A coming show'r your shooting corns presage, I never took one in your coat for a conjurer in Oldacheswill throb, your hollow tooth will rage; all my life.

Sauntering in coffee-house is Dulman seen; With that he twisted his girdleat me like a rope, Hedamns the climate, and complains of spleen. as who should say,

Meanwhile the south, rising with dabbled Now you may go hang yourself for me! and so . wings, went away.

A sable cloud athwart the welkin Aings, Well, I thought I should have swoon'd: Lord ! | That swill’d more liquor than it could contain, said I, what shall I do?

And, like a drunkard, gives it up again. I have lost my money, and shall lose my true

Brisk Susan whips ber linen from the rope, love too!

While the first drizzling shower is borne aslope; Then my Lord calld me: Harry, † said my Such is that sprinkling which some careless Lord, don't cry;

quean I'll give something towards thy loss; and, says Flirts on you from her mop, but not so clean : my Lady, so will I.

You Ay, invoke the gods; then, turning, stop O! but, said I, what if, after all, the chaplain To rail; she, singing, still whirls on her mop. won't come to?

Not yet the dust had shunn'd th' unequal strife, For that he said (an't please your Excellencies) But, aided by the wind, sought still for life; I must petition you.

And, wafted with its foe by violent gust, The premises tenderly consider'd, I desire your 'Twas doubtful which was rain, and which was Excellencies' protection,

dust. And that I may have a share in next Sunday's / Ah! where must needy poet seek for aid, collection;

| When dust and rain at once his coat invade! • Dr. Swift. + A cant word of Lord and Lady B. to Mrs. Harris.

sides.

Sole coat! where dust cemented by the rain From whence the neighbouring farmer calls
Erects the nap, and leaves a cloudy stain! The steeple, Knock; the vicar, Walls f.
Now in contiguous drops the flood comes down, The vicar once a week creeps in,
Threatening with deluge this devoted town. Sits with his knee up to his chin;
To shops in crowds the daggled females fly Here cons his notes and takes a whet,
Pretend to cheapen goods, but nothing buy. | Till the small ragged flock is met.
The Templar spruce, while every spout's A traveller, who by did pass,
abroach,

Observ'd the roof behind the grass ;
Stays till 'tis fair, yet seems to call a coach On tip-toe stood, and rear'd his snout,
The tuck'd-up sempstress walks with hasty And saw the parson creeping out;
strides,

Was much surpris'd to see a crow While streamis run down her oild umbrella's Venture to build his nest so low.

A school-boy ran unto't and thought Here various kinds, by various fortunes led, | The crib was down, the blackbird caught. Commence acquaintance underneath a shed. A third, who lost his way by night, Triuniphant Tories and desponding Whigs · Was forc'd for safety to alight; Forget their feuds, and join to save their wigs. And, stepping o'er the fabric-roof, Box'd in a chair, the beau impatient sits, His horse had like to spoil his hoof. While spouts run clattering o'er the roof by fits, Warburton took it in his noddle, And ever and anon with frightful din

| This building was design'd a model The leather sounds, he trembles from within. Or of a pigeon-house or oven, So when Troy chairmen bore the wooden steed, To bake one loaf, and keep one dove in. Pregnant wiih Greeks impatient to be freed, Then Mrs. Johnson || gave her verdict, (Those bully Greeks, who, as the moderns do, And every one was pleas'd that heard it: lostead of paying chairmen, ran them through,)“ All that you make this stir about, Laocoon struck the outside with his spear, | Is but a still which wants a spout." And each imprison'd hero quak'd for fear. The Reverend Dr. Raymond $ guess'd

Now from all parts theswelling kennels flow, | More probably than all the rest;
And bear their trophies with them as they go : He said, but that it wanted room,
Filth of all hues and odours seem to tell It might have been a pigmy's tomb.
What street they sail'd from, by their sight! The doctor's family came by,
and smell

| And little miss began to cry: They, as each torrent drives, with rapid force Give me that house in my own hand!' From Smithheld or St. Pulchre's shape their Then madam bade the chariot stand; course;

Call'd to the clerk in manner mild, And, in huge confluence join d at Snow-hill Pray, reach that thing here to the child: ridge,

That thing, I mean, among the kale;
Fall from the conduit prone to Holborn-bridge. And here's to buy a pot of ale.
Sweepings from butchers' stalls, dung, guts, The clerk said io her, in a heat,
and blood,

What! sell my master's country-seat, Drown'd puppies, stinking sprats, all drench'd Where he comes every week froin town! in mud,

[down the flood. He would not sell it for a crown. Dead cats, and turnip-tops, come tumbling Poh! fellow, keep not such a pother;

In half an hour thou 'lt make another.

Says Nancy , I can make for miss $ 232. On the lillle Mouse by the Church-yard | A finer house ten times than this; of Castlenock. 1710.

The Dean will give me willow-sticks,

And Joe, my apron-full of bricks.
WHOEVER pleaseth to inquire
Why yonder steeple wants a spire,
The gray old fellow Poet Joe *
The philosophic cause will show.
Once on a tíme a western blast

· § 233. The Fable of Midas. 1711. At least twelve inches overcast, Reckoning roof, weathercock, and all,

MIDAS, we are in story told, Which came with a prodigious fall!

Turn'd every thing he touch'd to gold. And, tumbling topsy-turvy round,

He chipp'd his bread, the pieces round Lit with its bottom on the ground;

Glitter'd like spangles on the ground: For, by the laws of gravitation,

A codling, ere it went his lip in, It fell into its proper station.

Would straight become a golden pippia: This is a little strutting pile

He call'd for drink; you saw him sup
You see just by the church-yard stile ; Potable gold in golden cup:
The walls in tumbling gave a knock,

His empty paunch that he might fill,
And thus the steeple got a shock;

He suck'd his victuals through a quill; • Mr. Beaumont of Triin.

+ Archdeacon Wall, a correspondent of Swift's. Dr. Swift's curate at Laracor. Stella. Minister of Trim. q 'The waiting-woman.

Untouch'd it pass'd between his grinders, | The torrent merciless imbibes
Or 't had been happy for gold-finders :

Commissions, perquisites, and bribes,
He cock'd his hat, you would have said By their own weight sunk to the bottom;
Mambrino's helm adornd his head.

Much good may do them that have caught'en! Whene'er he chanc'd his hands to lay

| And Midas now neglected stands, On magazines of corn or hay,

With ass's ears and dirty hands.
Gold ready-coin'd appear'd instead
Of paltry provender and bread;
Hence by wise farmers we are told,

$ 234. A Dialogue between a Member of Pur. Old hay is equal to old gold ;

liament and his Servant. In Imitation of And hence a critic deep maintains,

Horace, Sat. II. vii. First printed in 1752. We learn'd to weigh our gold by grains. Serv. Long have I heard your fav’rite theme, This fool had got a lucky hit,

A general reformation scheme, And people fancied he had wit.

To keep the poor from every sin, Two gods their skill in music tried,

From gatning, murder, and from gin, And both chose Midas to decide :

And now I have no less an itch He against Phoebus' harp decreed,

To venture to reform the rich. And gave it for Pan's oaten reed.

Memb. What, John! are you too turn'd The god of wit, to show his grudge,

projector ? Clapp'd ass's ears upon the judge;

Come then, for once I 'll hear your lecture. A goodly pair, erect and wide,

For since a member, as 'tis said, Which he could neither gild nor hide.

His projects to his servants read, And now the virtue of his hands

And of a favourite speech a book made Was lost among Pactolus' sands,

With which he tir'd each night a cook-maid, Against whose torrent while he swims, And so it hapt that every morning The golden scurf peels off his limbs :

The tasteless creatures gave him warning; Fame spreads the news, and people travel Since thus we use them, 'lis but reason From far to gather golden gravel;

We hear our servants in their season. Midas, expos'd to all their jeers,

Begin. Serv. Like gamblers, half mankind Had lost his art, and kept his ears.

Persist in constant vice combind ; This tale inclines the gentle reader

In races, routs, the stews, and White's,
To think upon a certain leader;

Pass all their days and all their nights.
To whom from Midas down descends | Others again like Lady Prue,
That virtue in the fingers' ends.

| Who gives the morning church its due; What else by perquisites are meant,

At noon is painted, dress'd, and curld,
By pensions, bribes, and three per cent. And one amongst the wicked world ;
By places and commissions sold,

Keeps her account exactly even,
And turning dung itself to gold;

As thus: “ Prue creditor to heaven: By starving in the midst of store,

To sermons heard on extra days. As t'other Midas did before?

Debtor: To masquerade and plays. None e'er did modern Midas choose

Item : to Whitfield, half an hour. Subject or patron of his muse,

Per contra : To the colonel, four." But found him thus their merit scan,

Others, I say, pass half their time That Phæbus must give place to Pan:

In folly, idleness, or crime : He values not the poet's praise,

Then all at once their zeal grows warm, Nor will exchange his plums for bays:

And every throat resounds reform. To Pan alone rich misers call;

A lord his youth in every vice And there's the jest, for Pan is all.

Indulg'd, bui chief in drabs and dice, Here English wits will be to seek;

Till worn by age, disease, and gout, Howe'er, 'tis all one in the Greek.

Then nature modestly gave out. Besides, it plainly now appears

Not so my Lord who still, by proxy, Our Midas too hath ass's ears;

Play'd with his darling dice and doxy. Where every fool his mouth applies,

I laud this constant wretch's state, And whispers-in a thousand lies;

And pity all who fluctuate; Such gross delusions could not pass

Prefer this slave to dear backgammon, Through any ears but of an ass.

To those who serve both God and mammon; But gold defiles with frequent touch:

To those who take such pains to awe
There's nothing fouls the hands so much: The nation's vices by the law,
And scholars give it for the cause

Yet, while they draw their bill so ample,
Of British Midas' dirty paws;

Neglect the influence of example. Which while the senate strove to scour,

Memb. To whom d’ye preach this senseless They wash'd away the chymic pow'r

sermon? While he his utmost strength applied,

Serv. To you, good Sir. Memb. To me, To swim against this pop'lar tide,

ye vermin? The golden spoils flew off apace :

Serv. To you, who every day professi Here fell a pension, thete a place :

T admire the times of good Queen Bess,

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