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Then let the fisherman his art repeat,
Yet, if for sylvan sports thy bosom glow, Where bubbling eddies favour the deceit,
Let thy feet greyhound urge his flying foe. If an enormous salmon chance to spy
With what delight the rapid course I view ! The wanton errours of the floating fly,
How does my eye the circling race pursue ! He lifts his silver gills above the flood,
He snaps deceitful air with empty jaws; And greedily sucks in th' unfaithful food; The subtle hare darts swift beneath his paws; Then downward plunges with the fraudful prey, She flies, he stretches, now with nimble bound And bears with joy the little spoil away :
Eager he presses on, but overshoots his ground; Soon in smart pain he feels the dire mistake, She turns, he winds, and soon regains the way, Lashes the wave, and beats the foamy lake; Then tears with gory mouth the screaming prey. With sudden rage he now aloft appears,
What various sport does rural life afford! And in his eye convulsive anguish bears;
What unbought dainties heap the wholesome board And now again, impatient of the wound,
Nor less the spaniel, skilful to betray, He rolls and wreathes his shining body round; Rewards the fowler with the feather'd prey. Then headlong shoots beneath the dashing tide, Soon as the labouring horse, with swelling reins, The trembling fins the boiling wave divide. Hath safely hous'd the farmer's doubtful gains, Now hope exalts the fisher's beating heart,
To sweet repast th' unwary partridge flies, Now he turns pale, and fears his dubious art; With joy amid the scatter'd harvest lies; He views the tumbling fish with longing eyes, Wandering in plenty, danger he forgets, While the line stretches with th' unwieldy prize; Nor dreads the slavery of entangling nets. Each motion humours with his steady hands, The subtle dog scours with sagacious nose And one slight hair the mighty bulk commands; Along the field, and snuffs each breeze that blows; Till, tir'd at last, despoil'd of all his strength, Against the wind he takes his prudent way, The game athwart the stream unfolds his length. While the strong gale directs him to the prey; He now, with pleasure, views the gasping prize
Now the warm scent assures the covey near, Gnash his sharp teeth, and roll his blood-shot eyes; He treads with caution, and he points with fear; Then draws him to the shore, with artful care, Then (lest some sentry-fowl the fraud descry, And lifts his nostrils in the sickening air :
And bid his fellows from the danger fly) Upon the burthen'd stream he floating lies,
Close to the ground in expectation lies, Stretches his quivering fins, and gasping dies.
Till in the snare the fluttering covey rise. Would you preserve a numerous finny race;
Soon as the blushing light begins to spread, Let
your fierce dogs the ravenous otter chase And glancing Phoebus gilds the mountain's head, (Th' amphibious monster ranges all the shores, His early flight th' ill-fated partridge takes, Darts through the waves, and every haunt explores): And quits the friendly shelter of the brakes; Or let the gin his roving steps betray,
Or, when the Sun casts a declining ray, And save from hostile jaws the scaly prey.
And drives his chariot down the western way, I never wander where the bordering reeds Let your obsequious ranger search around, O'erlook the muddy stream, whose tangling weeds
Where yellow stubble withers on the ground; Perplex the fisher; I nor choose to bear
Nor will the roving spy direct in vain, The thievish nightly net, nor barbed spear;
But numerous coveys gratify thy pain. Nor drain I ponds, the golden carp to take,
When the meridian Sun contracts the shade. Nor troll for pikes, dispeoplers of the lake;
And frisking heifers seek the cooling glade ; Around the steel no tortur'd worm shall twine, Or when the country floats with sudden rains, No blood of living insects stain my line.
Or driving mists deface the moisten’d plains ; Let me, less cruel, cast the feather'd hook
In vain his toils th' unskilful fowler tries, With pliant rod athwart the pebbled brook,
While in thick woods the feeding partridge lies Silent along the mazy margin stray,
Nor must the sporting verse the gun forbear, And with the fur-wrought fly delude the prey.
But what's the fowler's be the Muse's care.
The scent grows warm; he stops : he springs the
The fluttering coveys from the stubble rise, Now, sporting Muse, draw in the flowing reins, And on swift wing divide the sounding skies; Leave the clear streams awhile for sunny plains. The scattering lead pursues the certain sight, Should you the various arms and toils rehearse, And death in thunder overtakes their flight. And all the fisherman adorn thy verse;
Cool breathes the morning air, and Winter's hand Should you the wide encircling net display, Spreads wide her hoary mantle o'er the land; And in its spacious arch enclose the sea;
Now to the copse thy lesser spaniel take, Then haul the plunging load upon the land, Teach him to range the ditch, and force the brake; And with the sole and turbot hide the sand; Not closest coverts can protect the game : It would extend the growing theme too long, Hark! the dog opens ; take thy certain aim. And tire the reader with the watery song.
The woodcock futters; how he wavering flies! Let the keen hunter from the chase refrain, The wood resounds: he wheels, he drops, he dis Nor render all the ploughman's labour vain,
The towering hawk let future poets sing, When Ceres pours out plenty from her horn, Who terrour bears upon his soaring wing: And clothes the fields with golden ears of corn.
Let them on high the frighted hern survey, Now, now, ye reapers, to your task repair,
And lofty numbers point their airy fray. Haste! save the product of the bounteous year: Nor shall the mounting lark the Muse detain, To the wide-gathering hook long furrows yield, That greets the morning with his early strain ; And rising sheaves extend through all the field.
THE ART OF WALKING THE STREETS OF LONDON.
IN THREE BOOKS.
When, ʼmidst his song, the twinkling glass betrays, | No midnight masquerade her beauty wears,
No homebred jars her quiet state control,
still the chase, a pleasing task, remains ; Nor watchful jealousy torments her soul; The liound must open in these rural strains. With secret joy she sees her little race Soon as Aurora drives away the night,
Hang on her breast, and her small cottage grace ; And edges eastern clouds with rosy light,
The fleecy ball their busy fingers cull, The healthy huntsman, with the cheerful horn, Or from the spindle draw the lengthening wool : Summons the dogs, and greets the dappled morn; Thus flow her hours with constant peace of mind, The jocund thunder wakes th' enliven'd hounds, Till age the latest thread of life unwind, They rouze from sleep, and answer sounds for Ye happy fields, unknown to noise and strife, sounds;
The kind rewarders of industrious life; Wide through the furzy field their rout they take, Ye shady woods, where once I us'd to rove, Their bleeding bosoms force the thorny brake : Alike indulgent to the Muse and Love; The flying game their smoking nostrils trace, Ye murmuring streams that in meanders roll, No bounding hedge obstructs their eager pace; The sweet composers of the pensive soul! The distant mountains echo from afar,
Farewell !-- The city calls me from your bowers : And hanging woods resound the flying war : Farewell, amusing thoughts, and peaceful hours ! The tuneful noise the sprightly courser hears, Paws the green turf, and pricks his trembling ears; The slacken’d rein now gives him all his speed, Back flies the rapid ground beneath the steed; Hills, dales, and forests, far behind remain,
TRIVIA; While the warm scent draws on the deep-mouth'd
OR, train. Where shall the trembling hare a shelter find ? Hark! death advances in each gust of wind ! Now stratagems and doubling wiles she tries, Now circling turns, and now at large she flies; Til, spent at last, she pants, and beaves for breath, Quo te Mæri pedes? an, quo via ducit, in urbem ? Then lays her down, and waits devouring death.
Of the Implements for Walking the Streets, and Signs Canst thou the stag's laborious chase direct,
of the Weather. Or the strong fox through all his arts detect ? Through winter streets to steer your course aright, The theme demands a more experienc'd lay: How to walk clean by day, and safe by night; Ye mighty hunters ! spare this weak essay. How jostling crowds with prudence to decline,
O happy plains, remote from war's alarms, When to assert the wall, and when resign, And all the ravages of hostile arms!
I sing : thou, Trivia, goddess, aid my song,
By thee transported, I securely stray
And long perplexing lanes untrod before.
To pave thy realm, and smooth the broken ways, No trampling steed lays waste the ripen'd grain, Earth from her womb a finty tribute pays; Nor crackling fires devour the promis'd gain; For thee the sturdy pavior thumps the ground, No flaming beacons cast their blaze afar,
Whilst every stroke his labouring lungs resound; The dreadful signal of invasive war ;
For thee the scavenger bids kennels glide No trumpet's clangour wounds the mother's ear, Within their bounds, and heaps of dirt subside. And calls the lover from his swooning fair. My youthful bosom burns with thirst of fame, What happiness the rural maid attends,
From the great theme to build a glorious name, In cheerful labour while each day she spends ! To tread in paths to ancient bards unknown, She gratefully receives what Heaven has sent, And bind my temples with a civic crown : And, rich in poverty, enjoys content.
But more my country's love demands my lays; (Such happiness, and such unblemish'd fame, | My country's be the profit, mine the praise! Ne’er glad the bosom of the courtly dame):
When the black youth at chosen stands rejoice, She never feels the spleen's imagin'd pains, And “clean your shoes" resounds from every voice; Nor melancholy stagnates in her veins;
| When late their miry sides stage-coaches show, She never loses life in thoughtless ease,
And their stiff horses through the town move slow; Nor on the velvet couch invites disease ;
When all the Mall in leafy ruin lies,
Then let the prudent walker shoes provide,
Not of the Spanish or Morocco hide ;
The wooden heel may raise the dancer's bound,
.Haud equidem credo, quia sit divinitus illis,
Let firm, well hammer'd soles protect thy feet O happy streets ! to rumbling wheels unknown, Thro' freezing snows, and rains, and soaking sleet. No carts, no coaches, shake the floating town! Should the big last extend the shoe too wide, Thus was of old Britannia's city bless'd, Each stone will wrench th' unwary step aside;
Ere pride and luxury her sons possess'd ; The sudden turn may stretch the swelling vein,
Coaches and chariots yet unfashion'd lay, Thy cracking joint unhinge, or ancle sprain ;
Nor late-invented chairs perplex'd the way: And, when too short the modish shoes are worn,
Then the proud lady tripp'd along the town, You'll judge the seasons by your shooting corn.
And tuck'd-up petticoats secur'd her gown; Nor should it prove thy less important care,
Her rosy cheek with distant visits glow'd, To choose a proper coat for winter's wear.
And exercise unartful charms bestow'd : Now in thy trunk thy D'Oily habit fold,
But since in braided gold her foot is bound, The silken drugget ill can fence the cold;
And a long training mantua sweeps the ground, The frieze's spongy nap is soak'd with rain,
Her shoe disdains the street; the lazy fair, And showers soon drench the camlet's cockled grain; With narrow step, affects a limping air. True Witney * broad-cloth, with its shag unshorn,
Now gaudy pride corrupts the lavish age, Unpierc'd is in the lasting tempest worn:
And the streets flame with glaring equipage; Be this the horseman's fence, for who would wear
The tricking gamester insolently rides
, Amid the town the spoils of Russia's bear?
With Loves, and Graces on his chariot sides; Within the roquelaure's clasp thy hands are pent,
In saucy state the griping broker sits, Hands, that, stretch'd forth, invading harms prevent.
And laughs at honesty and trudging wits
. Let the loop'd bavaroy the fop embrace,
For you, O honest men ! these useful lays Or his deep cloke bespatter'd o'er with lace. The Muse prepares ; I seek no other praise. That garment best the winter's rage defends,
When sleep is first disturbid by morning cries
, Whose ample form without one plait depends ; From sure prognostics learn to know the skies
, By various names † in various counties known,
Lest you of rheums and couglrs at night complain; Yet held in all the true surtout alone;
Surpris'd in dreary fogs,' or driving rain. Be thine of kersey firm, though small the cost, When suffocating mists obscure the morn, Then brave unwet the rain, unchill’d the frost. Let thy worst wig, long usd to storms, be worn;
If the strong cane support thy walking hand, This knows the powder'd footman, and with care Chairmen no longer shall the wall command;
Beneath his fapping hat secures his hair. Ev'n sturdy carmen shall thy nod obey,
Be thou for every season justly drest, And rattling coaches stop to make thee way :
Nor brave the piercing frost with open breast; This shall direct thy cautious tread aright,
And, when the bursting clouds a deluge pour, Though not one glaring lamp enliven night. Let thy surtout defend the drenching shower
. Let beaux their canes, with amber tipt, produce ;) The changing weather certain signs reveal
. Be theirs for empty show, but thine for use.
Ere Winter sheds her snow, or frosts congeal, In gilded chariots while they loll at ease,
You'll see the coals in brighter flambire
, And lazily ensure a life's disease;
And sulphur tinge with blue the rising fire; While softer chairs the tawdry load convey Your tender shins the scorebing heat decline
, To court, to White's 1, assemblies, or the play ;
And at the dearth of coals the poor repine ; Rosy-complexion'd Health thy steps attends,
Before her kitchen hearth, the nodding dame, And exercise-thy lasting youth defends.
In flannel mantle wrapt, enjoys the flame; Imprudent men Heaven's choicest gifts profane : Hovering, upon her feeble knees she bends
, Thus some beneath their arm support the cane; And all around the grateful warmth ascends The dirty point oft checks the careless pace,
Nor do less certain signs the town advise And miry spots the clean cravat disgrace.
Of milder weather and serener skies. Oh! may I never such misfortune meet !
The ladies, gaily dress'd, the Mall adorn May no such vicious walkers crowd the street ! With various dyes, and paint the sunny moru: May Providence o'ershade me with her wings, The wanton fawns with frisking pleasure range, While the bold Muse experienc'd danger sings ! And chirping sparrows greet the welcome change,
Not that I wander from my native home, Not that their minds with greater skill are fraughe", And (tempting perils) foreign cities roam. Endued by instinct, or by reason taught : Let Paris be the theme of Gallia's Muse,
The scasons operate on every breast; Where slavery treads the streets in wooden shoes. 'Tis hence the fawns are brisk, and ladies drest Nor do I rove in Belgia’s frozen clime,
When on his box the nodding coachman snores And teach the clumsy boor to skate in rhyme; And dreams of fancy'd fares; when tavern doors Where, if the warmer clouds in rain descend, The chairmen idly crowd; then ne'er refuse No miry ways industrious steps offend ;
To trust thy busy steps in thinner shoes. The rushing flood from sloping pavements pours,
But when the swinging signs your ears offend And blackens the canals with dirty showers. With creaking noise, then rainy Hoods impend; Let others Naples' smoother streets rehearse, Soon shall the kennels swell with rapid streams, And with proud Roman structures grace their verse, And rush in muddy torrents to the Thames
. Where frequent murders wake the night with groans, The bookseller, whose shop's an open square
, And blood in purple torrents dyes the stones. Foresees the tempest, and with early care, Nor shall the Muse through narrow Venice stray, Of learning strips the rails; the rowing crew, Where gondolas their painted oars display.
To tempt a fare, clothe all their tilts in blue ;
• A town in Oxfordshire.
A chocolate house in St. James's strect.
Ingenium, aut rerum fato prudentia major.
On hosier's poles depending stockings ty'd, Her cleanly pail the pretty housewife bears,
(sounds The milky burthen smokes upon her head,
Vulcan by chance the bloomy maiden spies,
Ah, Mulciber! recall thy nuptial vows,
Think how her eyes dart inexhausted charms, Plenty from liberal horn shall strew the year; And canst thou leave her bed for Patty's arms ? When the dark skies dissolve in snow or rain,
The Lemnian power forsakes the realms above, The labouring hind shall yoke the steer in vain ; His bosom glowing with terrestrial love: But, if the threatening winds in tempests roar, Far in the lane a lonely hut he found; Then War shall bathe her wasteful sword in gore. No tenant ventur'd on th' unwholesome ground. How, if on Swithin's feast the welkin lours, Here smokes his forge, he bares bis sinewy arm, And every penthouse streams with hasty showers, And early strokes the sounding anvil warm : Twice twenty days shall clouds their fleeces drain, Around his shop the steely sparkles flew, And wash the pavements with incessant rain. As for the steed he shap'd the bending shoe. Let not such vulgar tales debase thy mind;
When blue-ey'd Patty near his window came, Nor Paul nor Swithin rule the clouds and wind His anvil rests
, his forge forgets to flame.
At first she coyly every kiss withstood,
4 And all her cheek was Aush'd with modest blood; Or double-hottom'd frieze ; their guarded feet With headless nails he now surrounds her shoes, Defy the muddy dangers of the street;
To save her steps from rains and piercing dews. While you, with hat unloop'd, the fury dread She lik’d his soothing tales, his presents wore, Of spouts high streaming, and with cautious tread And granted kisses, but would grant no more. Shun every dashing pool, or idly stop,
Yet Winter chill'd her feet, with cold she pines, To seek the kind protection of a shop.
And on her cheek the fading rose declines; But business summons; now with hasty scud No more her humid eyes their lustre boast, You jostle for the wall; the spatter'd mud
And in hoarse sounds her melting voice is lost. Hides all thy hose behind; in vain you scour,
Thus Vulcan saw, and in his heavenly thought Thy wig, alas! uncurl'd, admits the shower. A new machine mechanic fancy wrought, So fierce Alecto's snaky tresses fell,
Above the mire her shelter'd steps to raise, When Orpheus charm'd the rigorous powers of Hell; And bear her safely through the wintery ways. Or thus hung Glaucus' beard, with briny dew Straight the new engine on his anvil glows, Clotted and straight, when first his amorous view And the pale virgin on the patten rose. Surpris'd the bathing fair ; the frighted maid No more her lungs are shook with dropping rheums, Now stands a rock, transform'd by Circe's aid. And on her cheek reviving beauty blooms.
Good housewives all the winter's rage despise, The god obtain'd his suit: though flattery fail, Defended by the riding-hood's disguise ;
Presents with female virtue must prevail. Or, underneath th' umbrella's oily shed,
The patten now supports each frugal dame,
Of walking the Streets by Day.
To read the various warnings of the skies : Where Lincoln wide extends her fenny soil, Now venture, Muse, from home to range the town, A goodly yeoman liv’d, grown white with toil;" And for the public safety risk thy'own. One only daughter bless'd his nuptial bed,
For ease and for dispatch, the morning's best ; Who from her infant hand the poultry fed : No tides of passengers the streets molest. Martha (her careful mother's name) she bore, You'll see a draggled dansel here and there, But now her careful mother was no more.
From Billingsgate her fishy traffic bear ; Whilst on her father's knee the dainsel play'd, On doors the sallow milk-maid chalks her gains ; Patty he fondly call’d the smiling maid;
Ah! how unlike the milk-maid of the plains ! As years increas'd, her ruddy beauty grew, Before proud gates attending asses bray, And Patty's fame o'er all the village flew.
Or arrogate with solemn pace the way; Scpn as the grey-ey'd morning streaks the skies, These grave physicians with their milky cheer Anden the doubtful day the woodcock flies, The love-sick maid and dwindling beau repair ;
Here rows of drummers stand in martial file, But still the wandering passes forc'd his stay,
Thy venturous footsteps to a female guide:
She'll lead thee with delusive smiles along,
If cloth'd in black you tread the busy town, Ere thou hast held their hands; some heedless flirt Or if distinguish'd by the reverend gown,
Will overspread thy calves with spattering dirt. Three trades axoid: oft in the mingling press Where porters' hogsheads roll from carts aslo, The barber's apron soils the sable dress;
Or brewers down steep cellars stretch the rope, – Shun the perfumer's touch with cautious eye, Where counted billets are by carmen tost, Nor let the baker's step advance too nigh.
Stay thy rash step, and walk without the post. Ye walkers too, that youthful colours wear,
What though the gathering mire thy feet leThree sullying trades avoid with equal care :
And marks with sooty stains the licedless throng; Hark! the boy calls thee to his destin'd stand,
Like mortal man, great Jove (grown fond of With tallow spots thy coat; resign the way,
Of old was wont this nether world to range, To shun the surly butcher's greasy tray,
To seek amours; the vice the monarch lov’d Butchers, whose hands are dy'd with blood's foul Soon through the wide ethereal court impros'd: stain,
And ev'n the proudest goddess, now and then, And always foremost in the hangman's train. Would lodge a night among the sons of men ; Let due civilities be strictly paid:
To vulgar deities descends the fashion, The wall surrender to the hooded maid ;
Each, like her betters, had her earthly passion. Nor let thy sturdy elbow's hasty rage
Then Cloacina * (goddess of the tide, Jostle the feeble steps of trembling age:
Whose sable streams beneath the city glide,) And when the porter bends beneath his load, Indulg'd the modish flame; the town she row'd, And pants for breath, clear thou the crowded road. A mortal scavenger she saw, she lor'd; But, above all, the groping blind direct;
The muddy spots that dry'd upon his face, And from the pressing throng the lame protect. Like female patches, heighten'd every grace:
You'll sometimes meet a fop, of nicest tread, She gaz'd; she sigh’d; (for love can beauties spy Whose mantling peruke veils his empty head; In what seem faults to every common eye.) At every step he dreads the wall to lose,
Now had the watchman walk'd his second round, And risks, to save a coach, his red-heel'd shoes ; When Cloacina hears the rumbling sound Ilim, like the miller, pass with caution by, Of her brown lover's cart (for well she knows Lest from his shoulder clouds of powder fly. That pleasing thunder): swift the goddess rose, But, when the bully, with assuming pace,
And through the streets pursu'd the distant noise, Cocks his broad hat, edg'd round with tarnish'd Her bosom panting with expected joys. lace,
With the night-wandering harlot's airs she past, Yield not the way, defy his strutting pride,
Brush'd near his side, and wanton glances cast; And thrust him to the muddy kennel's side; In the black form of cinder-wench she came, He never turns again, nor dares oppose,
When love, the hour, the place, had banish'd shame; But mutters coward curses as he goes.
To the dark alley arın in arm they move: If drawn by business to a street unknown, O may no link-boy interrupt their love! Let the sworn porter point thee through the town; When the pale Moon had nine times fillid her Be sure observe the signs, for signs remain,
space, Like faithful landmarks, to the walking train. The pregnant goddess (cautious of disgrace) Seek not from 'prentices to learn the way,
Descends to Earth; but sought no midwife's aid, Those fabling boys will turn thy steps astray ; Nor 'midst her anguish to Lucina pray'd; Ask the grave tradesman to direct thee right, No cheerful gossip wish'd the mother joy, He ne'er deceives — but when he profits by't. Alone, beneath a bulk, she dropt the boy. (provid,
Where fam'd St. Giles's ancient limits spread, The child, through various risks in years imAn enrail'd column rears its lofty head,
At first, a beggar's brat, compassion mov'd; Here to seven streets seven dials count the day, His infant tongue soon learnt the canting art, And from each other catch the circling ray. Knew all the prayers and whines to touch the Here oft the peasant, with inquiring face,
heart. Bewilder'd, trudges on from place to place; He dwells on every sign with stupid gaze,
*Cloacina was a goddess, whose image Titio Enters the narrow alley's doubtful maze,
(a king of the Sabines) found in the common se wer; Tries every winding court and street in vain, and, not knowing what goddess it was, he called it And doubles o'er his weary steps again.
Cloacina, from the place in which it was foun and Thus hardy Theseus with intrepid feet
paid to it divine honours, Lactant. 1. 20. Ge Travers’d the dangerous labyrinth of Crete ;
Fel. Oct. p. 232.