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CLODIO In PRISON.
,BY PETER PINDAR.
V'LODIO, thy ruin is complete-
Princes have done this pretty feat;
And sleep, and breakfast too, and dine
With good Duke Humphry, Duke of PhaRoah's kine;
That is to say—exceeding lean,
Still, 'midst thy poverty and rags,
And pleas'd, of Princes tellest many a story;
Ev'n so !—that thou shalt lie along in Glory!
Vain Youth!—now prithee cast thine eye
Sporting around thy taper's blaze:—~
How fascinated with the rays!
A minute will decide his fate:
Still nearer, nearer—how elate \-—
There ends existence—-hark! his cries !—
"Down drops the wretch amidst the fire—'
And see him on his back expire!
Such is the Fly's, and such thy story;
• Sing, heavenly Muse,
"Things unattempted yet, in prose or rhyme,"
XX APPY the man, who, void of cares and strife,
• Two noted alehouses in Oxford, 1700.
But 1, whom griping penury surrounds,
Thus while my joyless minutes tedious flow, With looks demure, and silent pace, a Dun, Horrible monster! hated by gods and men, To my aerial citadel ascends, With vocal heel thrice thundering at my gate. With hideous accent thrice he calls; I know The voice ill-boding, and the solemn sound. What should I do f or whither turn? Amaz'd, Confounded, to the dark recess I fly Of wood-hole; strait my bristling hairs erect Through sudden fear; a chilly sweat bedews My shuddering limbs, and (wonderful to tell!) My tongue forgets her faculty of speech; So horrible he seems! His faded brow Entrench'd with many a frown, and conic beard, And spreading band, admir'd by modern saints, Disastrous acts forbode; in his right hand Long scrolls of paper solemnly he waves, With characters and figures dire inscrib'd, Grievous to mortal eyes; (ye gods, avert Such plagues from mortal men!) Behind him stalk* Another monster, not unlike himself,