Why is the hearfe with 'fcutcheons blazon'd round,
And with the nodding plume of oftrich crown'd?
No: the dead know it not, nor profit gain;
It only ferves to prove the living vain.
How fhort is life how frail is human trust !
Is all this pomp for laying duft to duft?
Where the nail'd hoop defends the painted ftall,
Brufh not thy fweeping fkirt too near the wall;
Thy heedlefs fleeve will drink the colour'd oil,
And spot indelible thy pocket foil.
Has not wife nature ftrung the legs and feet
With firmest nerves, defign'd to walk the street?
Has the not given us hands to grope aright,
Amidft the frequent dangers of the night?
And think'ft thou not the double noftril meant,
To warn from oily woes by previous scent ?
Who can the various city frauds * recite,
With all the petty rapines of the night?
Who now the guinea-dropper's bait regards,
Trick'd by the sharper's dice, or juggler's cards? 250
Why should I warn thee ne'er to join the fray,
Where the fham quarrel interrupts the way?
Lives there in thefe our days fo foft a clown,
Brav'd by the bully's oaths, or threatening frown?
I need not ftrict enjoin the pocket's care,
When from the crouded play thou lead'st the fair;
Who has not here, or watch, or fnuff-box loft,
Or handkerchief that India's fhuttle boaft?
* Various cheats formerly in practice.
O! may thy virtue guard thee through the roads,
Of Drury's mazy courts, and dark abodes!
The harlots' guileful paths, who nightly stand
Where Catharine ftreet defcends into the Strand!
Say, vagrant Mufe, their wiles and fubtle arts,
To lure the ftrangers' unfufpecting hearts:
So fhall our youth on healthful finews tread,
And city cheeks grow warm with rural red.
'Tis the who nightly ftrolls with fauntering pace,
No ftubborn ftays her yielding fhape embrace;
Beneath the lamp her tawdry ribbons glare,
The new-fcower'd manteau, and the flattern air;
High-draggled petticoats her travels show,
And hollow cheeks with artful blushes glow;
With flattering founds fhe fooths the credulous ear,
"My noble captain! charmer! love! my dear!"
In riding-hood near tavern-doors the plies,
Or muffled pinners hide her livid eyes.
With empty bandbox fhe delights to range,
And feigns a diftant errand from the 'Change;
Nay, he will oft' the Quaker's hood prophane,
And trudge demure the rounds of Drury-lane.
She darts from farfenet ambush wily leers,
Twitches thy fleeve, or with familiar airs
Her fan will pat the cheek; thefe fnares disdain,
Nor gaze behind thee, when the turns again.
I knew a yeoman, who, for thirft of gain,
To the great city drove from Devon's plain
His numerous lowing herd; his herds he fold,
And his deep leathern pocket bagg'd with gold.
Drawn by a fraudful nymph, he gaz'd, he figh'd;
Unmindful of his home, and diftant bride,
She leads the willing victim to his doom,
Through winding alleys to her cobweb room.
Thence through the street he reels from post to post,
Valiant with wine, nor knows his treasure loft.
The vagrant wretch th' affembled watchmen fpies, 295
He waves his hanger, and their poles defies;
Deep in the round-house pent, all night he fnares,
And the next morn in vain his fate deplores.
Ah, hapless fwain! unus'd to pains and ills!
Canft thou forego roaft-beef for naufeous pills?
How wilt thou lift to Heaven thy eyes and hands,
When the long fcroll the furgeon's fees demands!
Or elfe (ye Gods avert that worst difgrace!)
Thy ruin'd nofe falls level with thy face!
Then fhail thy wife thy loathfome kiss disdain,
And wholesome neighbours from thy mug refrain.
Yet there are watchmen, who with friendly light Will teach thy reeling fteps to tread aright;
For fixpence will fupport thy helpless arm,
And home conduct thee, safe from nightly harm. 310 But, if they shake their lanterns, from afar
To call their brethren to confederate war
When rakes refift their power; if hapless you
Should chance to wander with the fcowering crew; Though fortune yield thee captive, ne'er defpair, 315 But feek the conftable's confiderate ear;
He will reverfe the watchman's harsh decree,
Mov'd by the rhetorick of a filver fee.
Thus, would you gain some favourire courtier's word,
Fee not the petty clerks, but bribe my lord.
Now is the time that rakes their revels keep;
Kindlers of riot, enemies of fleep.
pence the flying Nicker flings,
And with the copper fhower the casement rings.
Who has not heard the Scowerer's midnight fame? 325
Who has not trembled at the Mohock's name?
Was there a watchman took his hourly rounds,
Safe from their blows, or new-invented wounds?
I pafs their defperate deeds, and mischiefs done
Where from Snow-hill black fteepy torrents run; 330
How matrons, hoop'd within the hogfhead's womb,
Were tumbled furious thence; the rolling tomb
O'er the ftones thunders, bounds from fide to fide:
So Regulus to fave his country dy’d.
Where a dim glean the paly lantern throws
O'er the mid pavement, heapy rubbish grows;
Or arched vaults their gaping jaws extend,
Or the dark caves to common-fhores defcend;
Oft' by the winds extinct the fignal lies,
Or fmother'd in the glimmering focket dies,
Ere night has half roll'd round her ebon throne;
In the wide gulph the fhatter'd coach o'erthrown
Sinks with the fnorting fteeds; the reins are broke,
And from the crackling axle flies the spoke.
So, when fam'd Eddyftone's far-fhooting ray,
That led the failor through the ftormy way,
* Gentlemen, who delighted to break windows with half-pence.
Was from its rocky roots by billows torn,
And the high turret in the whirlwind borne;
Fleets bulg'd their fides against the craggy land,
And pitchy ruins blacken'd all the strand.
Who then through night would hire the harness'd steed? And who would chufe the rattling wheel for speed? But hark! diftrefs with screaming voice draws nigher, And wakes the flumbering street with cries of fire. At first a glowing red enwraps the skies, And borne by winds the scattering sparks arife; From beam to beam the fierce contagion spreads; The fpiry flames now lift aloft their heads; Through the burst fash a blazing deluge pours, And fplitting tiles defcend in rattling showers.
Now with thick crouds th' enlighten'd pavement swarms,
The fire-man fweats beneath his crooked arms;
A leathern cafque his venturous head defends,
Boldly he climbs where thickeft,fmoak afcends;
Mov'd by the mother's ftreaming eyes and prayers, 365
The helpless infant through the flame he hears,
With no lefs virtue, than through hoftile fire
The Dardan hero bore his aged fire.
See forceful engines fpout their level'd streams,
To quench the blaze that runs along the beams;
The grappling hook plucks rafters from the walls,
And heaps on heaps the fmoaky ruin falls;
Blown by ftrong winds, the fiery tempest roars,
Bears down new walls, and pours along the floors;
The heavens are all a-blaze, the face of night
Is cover'd with a fanguine dreadful light.
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