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Oh, happy unown'd youths ! your limbs can bear | His treble voice resounds along the Meuse, The scorching dog-star, and the winter's air; And Whitehall echoes — “ Clean your honour's While the rich infant, nurs’d with care and pain,

shoes !” Thirsts with each heat, and coughs with every rain! Like the sweet ballad, this amusing lay

The goddess long had mark'd the child's distress Too long detains the walker on his way; And long had sought his sufferings to redress. While he attends, new dangers round him throng ; She prays the gods to take the fondling's part, The busy city asks instructive song. To teacbhis hands some beneficial art

Where, elevated o'er the gaping crowd, Practis'd in streets: the gods her suit allow'd, Clasp'd in the board the perjur'd head is bow'd, And made him useful to the walking crowd; Betimes retreat ; here, thick as hailstones pour, To cleanse the miry feet, and o'er the shoe, Turnips and half-hatch'd eggs (a mingled shower) With nimble skill, the glossy black renew. Among the rabble rain : some random throw Each power contributes to relieve the poor : May with the trickling yolk thy cheek o'erflow. With the strong bristles of the mighty boar

Though expedition bids, yet never stray Diana forms his brush ; the god of day

Where no rang'd posts defend the rugged way. A tripod gives, amid the crowded way

Here laden carts with thundering waggons meet, To raise the dirty foot, and ease his toil ;

Wheels clash with wheels, and bar the narrow Kind Neptune fills his vase with fetid oil

street; Prest from th' enormous whale; the god of fire, The lashing whip resounds, the horses strain, From whose dominions smoky clouds aspire, And blood in anguish bursts the swelling vein.. Among these generous presents joins his part, O barbarous men! your cruel breasts assuage; And aids with soot the new japanning art.

Why vent ye on the generous steed your rage ? Pleas'd she receives the gifts; she downward glides, Does not his service earn your daily bread ? Lights in Fleet-ditch, and shoots beneath the tides. Your wives, your children, by his labours fed !

Now dawns the morn, the sturdy lad awakes, If, as the Samian taught, the soul revives, Leaps from his stall, his tangled hair he shakes ; And, shifting seats, in other bodies lives; Then, leaning o'er the rails, he musing stood, Severe shall be the brutal coachman's change, And view'd below the black canal of mud, Doom'd in a hackney horse the town to range; Where common shores a lulling murmur keep, Carmen, transform’d, the groaning load shall draw, Whose torrents rush from Holborn's fatal steep : Whom other tyrants with the lash shall awe. Pensive through idleness, tears flow'd apace, Who would of Watling-street the dangers share, Which eas'd his loaded heart, and wash'd his face ! When the broad pavement of Cheapside is near? At length he sighing cry'd, “ That boy was blest, Or who that rugged street * would traverse o'er, Whose infant lips have drain'd a mother's breast; That stretches, O Fleet-ditch, from thy black shore But happier far are those (if such be known) To the Tower's moated walls? Here steams ascend Whom both a father and a mother own :

That, in mix'd fumes, the wrinkled nose offend. But I, alas ! hard Fortune's utmost scorn, Where chandlers' cauldrons boil ; where fishy prey Who ne'er knew parent, was an orphan born! Hide the wet stall, long absent from the sea; Some boys are rich by birth beyond all wants, And where the cleaver chops the heifer's spoil, Belov'd by uncles, and kind good old aunts; (bear, And where huge hogsheads sweat with trainy oil ; When time comes round, a Christmas-box they Thy breathing nostril hold: but how shall I And one day makes them rich for all the year. Pass, where in piles Carnavian f cheeses lie; Had I the precepts of a father learn'd,

Cheese, that the table's closing rites denies, Perhaps I then the coachman's fare had earn'd, And bids me with th' unwilling chaplain rise ? For lesser boys can drive; I thirsty stand,

O bear me to the paths of fair Pall-Mall And see the double flaggon charge their hand, Safe are thy pavements, grateful is thy smell ! See them puff off the froth, and gulp amain, At distance rolls along the gilded coach, While with dry tongue I lick my lips in vain." Nor sturdy carmen on thy walks encroach ;

While thus he feryent prays, the heaving tide, No lets would bar thy ways were chairs deny'd, In widen'd circles, beats on either side ;

The soft supports of laziness and pride : The goddess rose amid the inmost round,

Shops breathe perfumes, through sashes ribbons glow, With wither'd turnip-tops her temples crown'd; The mutual arms of ladies and the beau. Low reach'd her dripping tresses, lank, and black Yet still ev'n here, when rains the passage hide, As the smooth jet, or glossy raven's back;

Oft the loose stone spirts up a muddy tide Around her waist a circling eel was twin’d, Beneath thy careless foot; and from on high, Which bound her robe that hung in rags behind. Where masons mount the ladder, fragments fly, Now, beckoning to the boy, she thus begun: Mortar and crumbled lime in showers descend, Thy prayers are granted; weep no more, my son : And o'er thy head destructive tiles impend.

1 Go thrive. At some frequented corner stand ; But sometimes let me leave the noisy roads, This brush I give thee, grasp it in thy hand; And silent wander in the close abodes, Temper the soot within this vase of oil,

Where wheels ne'er shake the ground; there pensive And let the little tripod aid thy toil.

stray, On this, methinks, I see the walking crew, In studious thought, the long uncrowded way. At thy request, support the miry shoe ;

Here I remark each walker's different face, The foot grows black that was with dirt embrown'd, And in their look their various business trace. And in thy pocket gingling halfpence sound.” The broker here his spacious beaver wears, The goddess plunges swift beneath the flood, Upon his brow sit jealousies and cares ; ind dashes all around her showers of mud : The youth straight chose his post ; the labour ply'd • Thames-street. There branching streets from Charing Cross divide:

+ Chechira arianel..

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Bent on some mortgage (to avoid reproach) Columns with plain magnificence appear,
He seeks bye-streets, and saves th' expensive coach. And graceful porches lead along the square :
Soft, at low doors, old letchers tap their cane, Here oft my course I bend, when. lol from far
For fair recluse, who travels Drury-lane ;

1 spy the furies of the foot-ball war :. Here roams uncomb'd the lavish rake, to sliun The 'prentice quits his shop, to join the crew, His Fleet-street draper's everlasting dun.

Increasing crowds the Aying game pursue. Careful observers, studious of the town,

Thus, as you roll the ball o'er snowy ground, Shun the misfortunes that disgrace the clown; The gathering globe augments with every round Untempted, they contemn the juggler's feats, But whither shall I run ? the throng draws nigh, Pass by the Meuse, nor try the thimble's cheats * ; The ball now skimś the street, now soars on high; When drays bound high, they never cross behind, The dext'rous glazier strong returns the bound, Where bubbling yest is blown by gusts of wind : And jingling sashes on the penthouse sound. And when up Ludgate-hill huge carts move slow, o, roving Muse ! recall that wondrous year, Far from the straining steeds securely go,

When Winter reign'd in bleak Britannia's air ; Whose dashing hoofs behind them fling the mire, When hoary Thames, with frosted osiers crown'de And mark with muddy blots the gazing 'squire. Was three long moons in icy fetters bound. The Parthian thus his javelin backward throws, The waterman, forlorn, along the shore, And as he 'Aies infests pursuing foes.

Pensive reclines upon his useless oar; The thoughtless wits shall frequent forfeits pay, See harness'd steeds desert the stony town, Who 'gainst the sentry's box discharge their tea. And wander roads unstable, not their own ; Do thou some court or secret corner seek,

Wheels o'er the harden'd waters smoothly glide, Nor flush with shame the passing virgin's cheek. And rase with whiten'd tracks the slippery tide; Yet let me not descend to trivial song,

Here the fat cook piles high the blazing fire, Nor vulgar circumstance my verse prolong. And scarce the spit can turn the steer entire; Why should I teach the maid, when torrents pour,

Booths sudden hide the Thames, long streets appear, Her head to shelter from the sudden shower ? And numerous games proclaim the crowded fair. Nature will best her ready hand inform,

So, when a general bids the martial train With her spread petticoat to fence the storm. Spread their encampment o'er the spacious plain ; Does not each walker know the warning sign, Thick rising tents a canvas city build, When wisps of straw depend upon the twine And the loud dice resound through all the field. Cross the close street, that then the paver's art 'Twas here the matron found a doleful fate : Renews the ways, deny'd to coach and cart ? Let elegiac lay the woe relate, Who knows not that the coachman lashing by Soft as the breath of distant flutes, at houts Oft with his flourish cuts the heedless eye ; When silent evening closes up the flowers; And when he takes his stand, to wait a fare, Lulling as falling water's hollow noise; His horses' foreheads shun the Winter's air ? Indulging grief, like Philomela's voice. (roads ; Nor will I roam where Summer's sultry rays Doll every day had walk'd these treacherous Parch the dry ground, and spread with dust the Her neck grew warpt beneath autumnal loads ways ;

Of various fruit: she now a basket bore; With whirling gusts the rapid atoms rise,

That head, alas ! shall basket bear no more. Smoke o'er the pavement, and involve the skies. Each booth she frequent past, in quest of gain,

Winter my theme confines ; whose nitry wind And boys with pleasure heard her shrilling strain. Shall crust the slabby mire, and kennels bind; Ah, Doll ! all mortals must resign their breath, She bids the snow descend in flaky sheets,

And industry itself submit to death! And in her hoary mantle clothe the streets. The cracking crystal yields; she sinks, she dies, Let not the virgin tread these slippery roads, Her head, chopt off, from her lost shoulders dies; The gathering fleece the hollow patten loads ; Pippins she cry'd; but death her voice confounds; But if thy footsteps slide with clotted frost, And pip-prip-pip along the ice resounds. Strike off the breaking balls against the post.

So, when the Thracian furies Orpheus tore, On silent wheels the passing coaches roll; · And left his bleeding trunk deform'd with gore, Oft look behind, and ward the threatening pole.

His sever'd head floats down the silver tide, In harden'd orbs the school-boy moulds the snow, His yet warm tongue for his lost consort cry's; To mark the coachman with a dext'rous throw. Euridice with quivering voice he mourn'd, Why do ye, boys, the kennel's surface spread, And Heber's banks Euridice return'd. To tempt with faithless path the matron's tread ? But now the western gale the flood unbinds, How can you laugh to see the damsel spurn, And blackening clouds move on with warmer winds; Sink in your frauds, and her green stocking mourn? The wooden town its frail foundation leaves, At White's the harness'd chairman idly stands, And Thames' full urn rolls down his plentecos And swings around his waist his tingling hands ;

waves; The sempstress speeds to Change with red-tipt nose; From every penthouse streams the fleeting snow, The Belgian stove beneath her footstool glows; And with dissolving frost the pavements flow. In half-whipt muslin needles useless lie,

Experienc'd men, inur'd to city ways
And shuttle-cocks across the counter fly. [prove, Need not the calendar to count their days.
These sports warm harmless; why then will ye When through the town with slow and solemn ax
Deluded inaids, the dangerous flame of love ? Led by the nostril, walks the muzzled bear;

Where Covent-garden's famous temple stands, Behind him moves, majestically dull,
That boasts the work of Jones' immortal hands; The pride of Hockley-hole, the surly bull.

Learn hence the periods of the week to name, * A cheat commonly practised in the streets with | Mondays and Thursdays are the days of game thrpe thimbles and a little ball,

When fishy stalls with double store are laid ; Here Arundel's fam'd structure rear'd its frame, The golden-belly'd 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'de The jointed lobster, and unscaly sole,

And Raphael's fair design, with judgment, charm’d; And luscious 'scallops to allure the tastes

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

The colour'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 dext'rous 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 Powers, 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 mackrel 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 defy, 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 Christinas 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!

Ruffles the tide, and shifts the dangerous sail; See, see! the heaven-born maid her blessing shed; Then shall the passenger too 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 halfpence 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 dreneh'd in rain. Nor let old age long stretch his palsy'd hand. With mud fill’d high, the rumbling cart draws near; Those who give late are importun'd each day, Now rule thy prancipg 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 honours of his face. Lifts 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 taylor'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; Would'st 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 mayst thou welí supply the wants of life, Whose building to the slimy shore extends ; Support thy fanily, and clothic thy wife.

If the rude throng pour on with furious pace, And hap to break thee from a friend's embrace,

* New Forest in Hampshire, anciently so called

Volumes on shelter'd stalls expanded lie, Summon at once thy courage, rouse thy care, And various science lures the learned eye; (groan, Stand firm, look back, be resolute, beware. The bending shelves with ponderous scholiasts Fortlı issuing from steep lanes, the collier's steeds And deep divines, to modern shops unknown: Drag the black load; another cart succeeds; Here, like the bee, that on industrious wing Team follows team, crowds heap'd on crowdsappear, Collects the various odours of the Spring,

And wait impatient till the road grow clear. Walkers at leisure, learning's flowers may spoil, Now all the pavement sounds with trampling feet, Nor watch the wasting of the midnight oil ; And the mix'd hurry barricades the street. May morals snatch from Plutarch's tatter'd page, Entangled here, the waggon's lengthen'd team A mildew'd Bacon, or Stagyra's sage :

Cracks the tough harness; here a ponderous beam Here sauntering 'prentices o'er Otway weep, Lies over-turn'd athwart; for slaughter fed, O'er Congreve smile, or over D'Urfey sleep; Here lowing bullocks raise their horned head. Pleas'd semptresses the Lock's fam'd Rape unfold; Now oaths grow loud, with coaches coaches ja, And Squirts * read Garth, till apozems grow cold. And the smart blow provokes the sturdy war; O Lintot ! let my labours obvious lie,

From the high box they whirl the thong around, Rang'd on thy stall, for every curious eye! And with the twining lash their shins resound: So shall the poor these precepts gratis know, Their rage ferments, more dangerous wounds they And to my verse their future safeties owe.

try, What walker shall his mean ambition fix

And the blood gushes down their painful eye. On the false lustre of a coach and six ?

And now on foot the frowning warriors light

, Let the vain virgin, lur'd by glaring show, And with their ponderous fists renew the fight; Sigh for the liveries of th' embroider'd beau. Blow answers blow, their cheeks are smear'd with See yon bright chariot on its braces swing,

blood,
With Flanders mares, and on an arched spring. Till down they fall, and grappling roll in mud
That wretch, to gain an equipage and place, So, when two boars, in wild Ytene * bred,
Betray'd his sister to a lewd embrace,

Or on Westphalia's fattening chesnuts fed,
This coach, that with the blazon'd 'scutcheon glows, Gnash their sharp tusks, and, rous'd with equal fine,
Vain of his unknown race, the coxcomb shows. Dispute the reign of some luxurious mire ;
Here the brib'd lawyer, sunk in velvet, sleeps; In the black flood they wallow o'er and o'er

, The starving orphan, as he passes, weeps ;

Till their arm'd jaws distil with foam and gore.
There flames a fool, begirt with tinsel slaves, Where the mob gathers, swiftly shoot along,
Who wastes the wealth of a whole race of knaves ; Nor idly mingle in the noisy throng:
That other, with a clustering train behind,

Lur'd by the silver hilt, amid the swarm,
Owes his new honours to a sordid mind!

The subtle artist will thy side disarm. This next in court-fidelity excels,

Nor is the flaxen wig with safety worn; The public rifles, and his country sells.

High on the shoulder, in a basket borne, May the proud chariot never be my fate,

Lurks the sly boy, whose hand, to rapine bred, If purchas'd at so mean, so dear a rate !

Plucks off the curling honours of thy head. Or rather give me sweet content on foot,

Here dives the skulking thief, with practis'd sleigt Wrapt in my virtue, and a good surtout !

And unfelt fingers make thy pocket light:

Where's now the watch, with all its trinkets, dora!
Book III.
.

And thy late snuff-box is no more thy own.
But, lo! his bolder thefts some tradesman spies

, Of walking the Streets by Night.

Swift from his prey the scudding lurcher fies;

Dext'rous he 'scapes the coach with nimble lyrends 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 fear, 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 fies 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. Il-fated bor!
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 !
When Night first bids the twinkling stars appear, And stretch'd

beneath the pump's incessant spout:

Seiz’d by rough hands, he's dragg'd amid the post 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 plaisters o'er his eyes Where the shop-windows † falling threat thy head Now labourers home return and join their strength Amid the swarm thy listening ear detain:

Let not the ballad singer's Shrilling strain
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 labours of the diving hand;
And, as the passes open, wind along.
Where the fair columns of St. Clement stand,

Confederate in the cheat, they draw the throng,
Whose straiten’d bounds encroach upon the Strand; But soon as coach or cart drives rattling on

And cambric handkerchiefs reward the song.
Where the low penthouse bows the walker's head,
And the rough pavement wounds the yielding tread; So Jove's loud bolts the mingled war divide

The rabble part, in shoals they backward run.
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;

An apothecary's boy, in The Dispensary. + A species of window now almost forgotten. N.

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Stop short; nor struggle through the crowd in vain, Yet who the footman's arrogance can quell, But watch with careful eye the passing train. Whose flambeau gilds the sashes of Pall-Mall, Yet I, (perhaps too fond,) if chance the tide When in long rank a train of torches flame, Tumultuous bear my partner from my side, To light the midnight visits of the dame? Impatient venture back ; despising harm,

Others, perhaps, by happier guidance led, I force my passage where the thickest swarm. May where the chairman rests with safety tread; Thus his lost bride the Trojan sought in vain Whene'er I pass, their poles (unseen below) Through night, and arms, and flames, and hills of Make my knee tremble with a jarring blow. slain.

If wheels bar up the road, where streets are crost, Thus Nisus wander'd o'er the pathless grove, With gentle words the coachman's ear accost : To find the brave companion of his love.

He ne'er the threat or harsh command obeys, The pathless grove in vain he wanders o'er : But with contempt the spatter'd shoe surveys. Euryalus, alas! is now no more.

Now man with utmost fortitude thy soul,
That walker who, regardless of his pace, To cross the way where carts and coaches roll;
Turns oft to pore upon the damsel's face,

Yet do not in thy hardy skill confide,
From side to side by thrusting elbows tost, Nor rashly risk the kennel's spacious stride;
Shall strike his aching breast against a post; Stay till afar the distant wheel you hear,
Or water, dash'd from fishy stalls, shall stain Like dying thunder in the breaking air ;
His hapless coat with spirts of scaly rain.

Thy foot will slide upon the miry stone,
But, if unwarily he chance to stray

And passing coaches crush thy tortur'd bone, Where twirling turnstiles intercept the way, Or wheels enclose the road; on either hand, The thwarting passenger shall force them round, Pent round with perils, in the midst you stand, And beat the wretch half breathless to the ground. And call for aid in vain; the coachman swears, Let constant vigilance thy footsteps guide

And carmen drive, unmindful of thy prayers. And wary circumspection guard thy side ; / (night, Where wilt thou turn? ah ! whither wilt thou fly? Then shalt thou walk, unharm'd, the dangerous On every side the pressing spokes are nigh. Nor need th' officious linkboy's smoky light. So sailors, while Charybdis' gulph they shun, Thou never wilt attempt to cross the road,

Amaz’d, on Scylla's craggy dangers run. Where ale-house benches rest the porter's load, Be sure observe where brown Ostrca stands, Grievous to heedless shins; no barrow's wheel, Who boasts her shelly ware from Wallfleet sands; That bruises oft the truant school-boy's heel, There may'st thou pass with safe unmiry feet, Behind thee rolling, with insidious pace,

Where the rais'd pavement leads athwart the street. Shall mark thy stocking with a miry trace.

If where Fleet-ditch with muddy current flows, Let not thy venturous steps approach too nigh, You chance to roam, where oyster-tubs in rows Where, gaping wide, low steepy cellars lie. Are rang'd beside the posts; there stay thy haste, Should thy shoe wrench aside, down, down you fall, And with the savoury fish indulge thy taste : And overturn the scolding huckster's stall ;

The damsel's knife the gaping shell commands, The scolding huckster shall not o'er thee moan, While the salt liquor streams between her hands. But pence exact for nuts and pears o'erthrown The man had sure a palate cover'd o'er

Though you through cleanlier alleys wind by day, with brass or steel, that on the rocky shore
To shun the hurries of the public way,

First broke the oozy oyster's pearly coat,
Yet ne'er to those dark paths by night retire ; And risk'd the living morsel down his throat.
Mind only safety, and contemn the mire.

What will not Luxury taste ? Earth, sea, and air,
Then no impervious courts thy haste detain, Are daily ransack'd for the bill of fare !
Nor sneering alewives bid thee turn again.

Blood stuff'd in skins is British Christian's food! Where Lincoln's-inn, wide space, is rail'd around, And France robs marshes of the croaking brood ! Cross not with venturous step; there oft is found Spungy morels in strong ragouts are found, The lurking thief, who, while the day-light shone, And in the soup the slimy snail is drown'd. Made the walls echo with his begging tone:

When from high spouts the dashing torrents fall, That crutch, which late compassion mov'd, shall Ever be watchful to maintain the wall; throng wound

For, should'st thou quit thy ground, the rushing Thy bleeding head, and fell thee to the ground. Will with impetuous fury drive along; Though thou art tempted by the link-man's call, All press to gain those honours thou hast lost, Yet trust him not along the lonely wall ;

And rudely shove thee far without the post.
In the mid way he'll quench the flaming brand, Then to retrieve the shed you strive in vain,
And share the booty with the pilfering band. Draggled all o'er, and soak'd in floods of rain.
Still keep the public streets, where oily rays, Yet rather bear the shower, and toils of mud,
Shot from the crystal lamp, o'erspread the ways. Than in the doubtful quarrel risk thy blood.
Happy Augusta! law-defended town!

O think on Oedipus' detested state,
Here no dark lanterns shade the villain's frown; And by his woes be warn’d to shun thy fate.
No Spanish jealousies thy lanes infest,

Where three roads join'd, he met his sire unNor Roman vengeance stabs th' unwary breast;

known; Here Tyranny ne'er lifts her purple hand,

(Unhappy sire, but more unhappy son!) But Liberty and Justice guard the land;

Each claim'd the way, their swords the strife decide, No bravos here profess the bloody trade,

The hoary monarch fell, he groan'd, and died ! Nor is the church the murderer's refuge made, Hence sprung the fatal plague that thinn'd thy Let not the chairman, with assuming stride,

reign, Press near the wall, and rudely thrust thy side : The cursed incest! and thy children slain ! The laws have set him bounds; his servile feet Hence wert thou doom'd in endless night to stray Should ne'er encroach where posts defend the street. Thro' Theban streets, and cheerless grope thy way.

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