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And to the stir of commerce, driving flow, And thund'ring loud, with his ten thousand

wheels ?
They would be, were not madness in the head,
And folly in the heart; were England now
What England was, plain, hospitable, kind,
And undebauch'd. But we have bid farewel
To all the virtues of those better days,
And all their honeft pleasures. Mansions once
Krew their own masters, and laborious hinds,
Who had surviv'd the father, ferv'd the {on.
Now the legitimate and rightful Lord
Is but a tranfient guest, newly arriv'd,
And foon to be supplanted. He that saw
His patrimonial timber cast its leaf,
Sells the last scantling, and transfers the price
To fome fhrewd fharper, ere it buds again.
Estates are landscapes, gaz'd upon awhile,
Then advertis'd, and auctioneer'd away.
The country starves, and they that feed th' o'er-

And furfeited lewd town with her fair dues,
By a just judgment strip and starve themselves.
The wings that waft our riches out of fight
Grow on the gamester's elbows, and th' alert
And nimble motion of those restless joints,
That never tire, foon fans them all away.
Improvement too, the idol of the age,



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Is fed with many a victim. Lo ! he comes-
The omnipotent magician, Brown, appears.
Down falls the venerable pile, th' abode
Of our forefathers, a grave whisker'd race,
But tasteless. Springs a palace in its stead,
But in a diftant spot; where more expos’d,
It may enjoy th’advantage of the north,
And aguish east, till time shall have transform'd
Thofe naked acres to a shelt'ring grove.
He speaks. The lake in front becomes a lawn,
Woods vanish, hills subfide, and wallies rife,
And streams, as if.created for his use,
Pursue the tract of his directing wand,
Sinuous or straight, now rapid and now flow,
Now murm'ring foft, now roaring in cascades,
Ev'n as he bids. The enraptur’d owner smiles.
'Tis finish'd ; and yet, finish'd as it seems,
Still wants a grace, the lovelieft it could show,
A mine to satisfy th' enormous cost.
Drain'd to the last poor item of his wealth,
He fighs, departs, and leaves thi' accomplish'd

That he has touchid, retouch'd, many a long day
Labour'd, and many a night pursu'd in dreams,
Just when it meets his hopes, and proves the

He wanted, for a wealthier to enjoy.
And now perhaps the glorious hour is come,
When, having no stake 'left, no pledge t'endear


Her int'rests, or that gives her sacred cause
A moment's operation on his love,
He burns with most intense and flagrant zeal
To serve his country. Ministerial grace
Deals him out money from the public chest,
Or, if that mine be faut, some private purse
Supplies his need with an usurious loan,
To be refunded duly, when his vote,
Well-manag'd, shall have earn’d its worthy price.
Oh innocent, compar'd with arts like these,
Crape and cock'd pistol, and the whistling ball
Sent through the trav'ller's temples ! He that

One drop of heav'ns sweet mercy in his cup,
Can dig, beg, rot, and perish well-content,
So he may wrap himself in honest rags
At his last gasp ; but could not for a world
Fish up his dirty and dependant bread
From pools and ditches of the commonwealth,
Sordid and fick’ning at his own success,

Ambition, ay’rice, penury incurr’d By endless riot; vanity, the luft Of pleasure and variety, dispatch, As duly as the swallows disappear, The world of wand'ring knights and squires to

town. London ingulphs them all. The shark is there,


F 2

And the shark's prey; the spendthrift, and the

leech That sucks him. There the sycophant, and he Who, with bare-headed and obsequious bows, Begs a warm office, doom'd to a cold jail, And groat per diem, if his patron frown. The levee swarms, as if, in golden pomp, Were character'd on ev'ry statesman's door,


66 HERE."

"These are the charms that fully and eclipse
The charms of nature. 'Tis the cruel gripe
The lean hard-handed poverty inflicts,
The hope of better things, the chance to win,
The wish to shine, the thirst to be amus'd,
That at the sound of Winter's hoary wing,
Unpeople all our counties, of such herds
Of flutt'ring, loit'ring, cringing, begging, loofe
And wanton vagrants, as make London, vast
And boundless as it is, a crowded coop.

Oh thou, resort and mart of all the earth,
Chequer'd with all complexions of mankind,
And spotted with all crimes ; in whom I see
Much that I love, and more that I admire,
And all that I abhor ; thou freckled fair,


That pleases and yet shocks me, I can laugh, ,
And I can weep, can hope, and can defpond,
Feel wrath and pity, when I think on thee!
Ten righteous would have fav'd a city once,
And thou hast many righteous.-Well for thee
That falt preserves thee ; more corrupted else,
And therefore more obnoxious at this hour,
Than Sodom in her day had pow'r to be,
For whom God heard his Abriam plead in vain.


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