fly?

Stop 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) Thus Nisus wander'd o'er the pathless grove, Make my knee tremble with a jarring blow. To find the 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 the spatter'd shoe surveys.
Turns oft to pore upon the damsel'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! whither wilt thon Nor need th' officious link-boy's smoky light. 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 stands, 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 unmiry feet, Let not thy venturous steps approach too nigh, Where the rais'd pavement leads athwart the stree! 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 huckster'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 mov'd, 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 floods 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 siru 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 leathern'd 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 fees demands ! Is all this pomp for laying dust to dust?

Or else (ye gods, avert that worst disgrace!) Where the 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 wife 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 hiarra 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-dropper'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* fings. 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 fame? 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' guileful paths, who nightly stand Sase 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 ta wdry ribbons glare, O'er the mid pavement, heapy rubbish grows; The new-scour'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, ear,

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 muffed 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 oft 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.

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 fleet 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;

“Oh! where shall I my true-love find ? Through the burst sash a blazing deluge pours, And splitting tiles descend in rattling showers.

Tell me, ye jovial sailors, tell me true, Now with thick crowds th’ enlighten'd pavement

If my sweet William sails among the crew." swarms, The fireman sweats beneath his crooked arms;

William, who high upon the yard

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;

The noblest captain in the British fleet Blown by strong winds, the fiery tempest roars,

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

“O Susan, Susan, lovely dear, [s 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,

We only part to meet again. When the Sun veil'd in rust his mourning head,

Change, as ye list, ye winds; my heart shall be And frightful prodigies the skies o'erspread.

The faithful compass that still points to thee. Hark! the drum thunders! far, ye crowds, retire: Behold! the ready match is tipt with fire,

“ Believe not what the landmen say The nitrous store is laid, the smutty train,

Who tempt with doubts thy constant mind. With running blaze, awakes the barreld grain ; Flames sudden wrap the walls; with sullen sound

They'll tell thee, sailors, when away, The shatter'd pile sinks on the smoky ground.

In every port a mistress find : So, when the years shall have revolv'd the date,

Yes, yes, believe them when they tell thee so,

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 flood 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,

Love turns aside the balls that round me fly, The barbarous Arabs' haunt; or shivering crost Dark Greenland's mountains of eternal frost;

Lest precious tears should drop from Susan's eye Whom Providence, in length of years, restores

The boatswain gave the dreadful word, To the wish'd harbor of his native shores)

The sails their swelling bosom spread; Sets forth his journals to the public view,

No longer must she stay aboard : To caution, by his woes, the wandering crew.

They kiss'd, she sigh'd, he hung his head. And now complete my generous labors lie,

Her lessening boat unwilling rows to land : Finish'd, and ripe for immortality.

Adieu!" she cries ; and wav'd her lily hand.
Death shall entomb in dust this mouldering frame,
But never reach th' eternal part, my fame
When W- and — 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. 39

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