Your tender fhins the fcorching heat decline,
And at the dearth of coals the poor repine ;
Before her kitchen hearth, the nodding dame,
In flannel mantle wrapt, enjoys the flame;
Hovering, upon her feeble knees the bends,
And all around the grateful warmth afcends.
Nor do lefs certain figns the town advise
Of milder weather and ferener fkies.
The ladies, gaily drefs'd, the Mall adorn
With various dyes, and paint the funny morn
The wanton fawns with frifking pleasure range,
And chirping fparrows greet the welcome change;
*Not that their minds with greater fkill are fraught,
Endued by instinct, or by reason taught;
The feasons operate on every breaft;

'Tis hence that fawns are brifk, and ladies drest.
When on his box the nodding coachman fnores,
And dreams of fancy'd fares; when tavern-doors
The chairmen idly croud; then ne'er refuse
To truft thy bufy steps in thinner shoes.

But when the fwinging figns your ears offend
With creaking noise, then rainy floods impend;
Soon fhall the kennels fwell with rapid streams,
And rush in muddy torrents to the Thames.
The bookfeller, whofe fhop 's an open fquare,
Forefees the tempeft, and with early care

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"Haud equidem credo quia fit divinitus illis, Ingenium, aut rerum fato prudentia major." VIRG. Georg. i.

of

Of Learning ftrips the rails; the rowing crew,
To tempt a fare, cloath all their tilts in blue;
On hofiers' poles depending stockings ty'd
Flag with the flacken'd gale from fide to fide;
Church-monuments foretell the changing air;
Then Niobe diffolves into a tear,

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And sweats with facred grief; you'll hear the founds
Of whistling winds, ere kennels break their bounds;
Ungrateful odours common-fhores diffufe,
And dropping vaults diftil unwholesome dews,
Ere the tiles rattle with the fmoaking shower,
And fpouts on heedlefs men their torrents pour.
All fuperftition from thy breaft repel.
Let credulous boys and prattling nurses tell,
How, if the festival of Paul be clear,

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Plenty from liberal horn shall strow the year;
When the dark fkies diffolve in fnow or rain,
The labouring hind fhall yoke the steer in vain ;
But, if the threatening winds in tempests roar,
Then war fhall bathe her wasteful sword in gore.
How, if on Swithin's feaft the welkin lours,
And every penthoufe ftreams with hafty showers,
Twice twenty days fhall clouds their fleeces drain, 185
And wash the pavements with inceffant rain.

Let not fuch vulgar tales debafe thy mind;

Nor Paul nor Swithin rule the clouds and wind.

of the Mufe defpife,

If you the precepts
And flight the faithful warning of the skies;
Others you 'll fee, when all the town 's afloat,
Wrapt in th' embraces of a kerfey-coat,

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Or double bottom'd frieze; their guarded feet
Defy the muddy dangers of the street;
While you, with hat unloop'd, the fury dread
Of fpouts high ftreaming, and with cautious tread
Shrun every dafhing pool, or idly flop,
To feek the kind protection of a shop.
But business fummons; now with hafty feud
You jofile for the wall; the fpatter'd mud
Hides all thy hofe behind; in vain you scower,
Thy wig, alas! uncurl'd, admits the shower.
So fierce Alecto's fnaky trefles fell,
When Orpheus charm'd the rigorous powers of hell;
Or thus hung Glaucus' beard, with briny dew
Clotted and ftrait, when firft his amorous view
Surpriz'd the bathing fair; the frighted maid
Now ftands a rock, transform'd by Circe's aid.
Good housewives all the winter's rage despise,
Defended by the riding-hood's difguife:
Or, underneath th' umbrella's oily fhed,
Safe through the wet on clinking pattens tread.
Let Perfian dames th' umbrella's ribs difplay,
To guard their beauties from the funny ray;
Or fweating flaves fupport the fhady load,
When Eastern monarchs fhow their state abroad;
Britain in winter only knows its aid,

To guard from chilly fhowers the walking maid.
But, O! forget not, Mufe, the patten's praife,
That female implement fhall grace thy lays;
Say from what art divine th' invention came,
And from its origin deduce its name.

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Where

Where Lincoln wide extends her funny foil, A goodly yeoman liv'd, grown white with toil; One only daughter bleft his nuptial bed,

Who from her infant hand the poultry fed:

Martha (her careful mode) he bore,
But now her careful mother was h

Whilft on her father's knee the damicl play'd,
Patty he fondly caled the fmiling maid;
As years increas'd, her ruddy beauty grew,
And Patty's fame o'er all the village flew.

Soon as the grey-eye'd morning ftreaks the skies,
And in the doubtful day the woodcock flies,
Her cleanly pail the pretty houfwife bears,
And finging to the diftant field repairs;

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And, when the plains with evening-dews are spread,
The milky burthen fmoaks upon her head,
Deep through a miry lane fhe pick'd her way,
Above her ancle rofe the chalky clay.

Vulcan by chance the bloomy maiden spies,
With innocence and beauty in her eyes :
He saw, he lov'd; for yet he ne'er had known
Sweet innocence and beauty meet in one.
Ah, Mulciber! recall thy nuptial vows,
Think on the graces of thy Paphian spouse,
Think how her eyes dart inexhausted charms,
And canft thou leave her bed for Patty's arms?
The Lemnian Power forfakes the realms above,

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His bofom glowing with terreftrial love :

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Far in the lane a lonely hut he found;

No tenant ventur'd on th' unwholesome ground.

Here

Here fmoaks his forge, he bares his finewy arm,
And early strokes the founding anvil warm :
Around his fhop the fteely fparkles flew,
As for the fteed he fhap'd the bending shoe.
When blue-eye'd Patty near his window came,
His anvil rests, his forge forgets to flame.
To hear his foothing tales, the feigns delays;
What woman can refift the force of praise?

At first the coyly every kiss withstood,
And all her cheek was flufh'd with modeft blood;
With headless nails he now furrounds her shoes,
To fave her steps from rains and piercing dews.
She lik'd his foothing tales, his presents wore;
And granted kisses, but would grant no more.
Yet winter chill'd her feet, with cold fhe pines,
And on her cheek the fading rofe declines;
No more her humid eyes their luftre boast,
And in hoarfe founds her melting voice is loft.
This Vulcan faw, and, in his heavenly thought,

A new machine mechanic faney wrought,

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Above the mire her shelter'd steps to raise,

And bear her fafely through the wintery ways.

Strait the new engine on his anvil glows,

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And the pale virgin on the patten rofe.

No more her lungs are shook with dropping rheums,
And on her cheek reviving beauty blooms.
The God obtain'd his fuit: though flattery fail,
Prefents with female virtue muft prevail.
The patten now fupports each frugal dame,
Which from the blue-eye’d ́Patty takes the namẹ.

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TREVIA.