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Reaums fhall daunce honde in honde*,
And it shall be merye in old Inglonde,
Then old Inglonde shall be no more,
And no man fhall be forie therefore.
Geryon + shall have three hedes agayne,
Till Hapfburge makyth them but twayne.
NOW hardly here and there an hackney coach
Appearing, fhew'd the ruddy morn's approach.
Now Betty from her master's bed had flown,
And foftly ftole to difcompofe her own;
The flipfhod 'prentice from his master's door
Had par'd the dirt, and fprinkled round the floor.
Now Moll had whirl'd her mop with dextrous airs,
Prepar'd to fcrub the entry and the stairs.
The youth with broomy stumps began to trace
The kennel's edge, where wheels had worn the place.
The fmall-coal-man was heard with cadence deep
Till drown'd in fhriller notes of chimney-fweep:
Duns at his Lordship's gate began to meet;
And brick-duft Moll had scream'd through half the street.
The turnkey now his flock returning fees,
Duly let out a-nights to steal for fees :
The watchful bailiffs take their filent ftands,
And school-boys-lag with fatchels in their hands.
* By the Union. A king of Spain flain by Hercules. The Archduke Charles was of the Hapfburg family.
A DESCRIPTION OF
In Imitation of Virgil's Georgics. 1710.
CAREFUL obfervers may foretel the hour
(By fure prognoftics) when to dread a shower.
While rain depends, the penfive cat gives o'er
Her frolicks, and purfues her tail no more.
Returning home at night, you 'll find the fink
Strike your offended fenfe with double stink.
If you be wife, then go not far to dine;
You'll fpend in coach-hire more than fave in wine.
A coming fhower your shooting corns presage,
Old aches will throb, your hollow tooth will rage;
Sauntering in coffee-houfe is Dulman feen;
He damns the climate, and complains of spleen.
Meanwhile the fouth, rifing with dabbled wings,
A fable cloud athwart the welkin flings,
That swill'd more liquor than it could contain,
And, like a drunkard, gives it up again.
Brifk Sufan whips her linen from the rope,
While the first drizzling shower is borne aslope :
Such is that fprinkling which fome careless quean
Flirts on you from her mop, but not fo clean:
You fly, invoke the gods; then, turning, stop
To rail; fhe, finging, fill whirls on her mop.
Not yet the duft had tbunn'd th' unequal strife,
But, aided by the wind, fought ftill for life,
And, wafted with its foe by violent gust,
'Twas doubtful which was rain, and which was duft. Ah! where must needy poet feek for aid,
When duft and rain at once his coat invade ?
Sole coat! where duft cemented by the rain
Erects the nap, and leaves a cloudy stain!
Now in contiguous drops the flood comes down,
Threatening with deluge this devoted town.
To fhops in crouds the daggled females fly,
Pretend to cheapen goods, but nothing buy.
The templar fpruce, while every fpout 's abroach,
Stays till 'tis fair, yet feems to call a coach.
The tuck'd-up femftrefs walks with hafty ftrides,
While ftreams run down her oil'd umbrella's fides.
Here various kinds, by various fortunes led,
Commence acquaintance underneath a shed.
Triumphant Tories and defponding Whigs
Forget their feuds, and join to fave their wigs.
Box'd in a chair, the beau impatient fits,
While spouts run clattering o'er the roof by fits,
And ever and anon with frightful din
The leather founds; he trembles from within.
So when Troy chairmen bore the wooden steed,
Pregnant with Greeks impatient to be freed,
(Thofe bully Greeks, who, as the moderns do,
Inftead of paying chairmen, ran them through),
Laocoon ftruck the outfide with his fpear,
And each imprifon'd hero quak'd for fear.
Now from all parts the fwelling kennels flow,
And bear their trophies with them as they go :
Filths of all hues and odours feem to tell
What street they fail'd from by their fight and smell.
They, as each torrent drives, with rapid force,
From Smithfield or St 'Pulchre's fhape their course,
And in huge confluence join'd at Snowhill ridge,
Fall from the conduit prone to Holbourn bridge.
Sweepings from butchers' ftalls, dung, guts, and
Drown'd puppies, ftinking fprats, all drench'd in mud,
Dead cats, and turnip-tops, come tumbling down the flood.
ON THE LITTLE HOUSE BY THE CHURCH-YARD OF CASTLENOCK. 1710.
WHOEVER pleafeth to enquire
Why yonder fteeple wants a fpire,
old fellow poet * Joe
The philofophic caufe will show.
Once on time a western blaft
At least twelve inches overcaft,
Reckoning roof, weathercock, and all,
Which came with a prodigious fall;
And tumbling topsy-turvy round
Light with its bottom on the ground.
For, by the laws of gravitation,
It fell into its proper ftation.
* Mr. Beaumont of Trim.
THE LITTLE HOUSE AT CASTLENOCK, 63
This is the little strutting pile,
You fee juft by the church-yard flile;
The walls in tumbling gave a knock;
And thus the freeple got a fhock;
From whence the neighbouring farmer calls,
The fteeple, Kaock; the vicar,
The vicar once a week creeps in,
Sits with his knees up to his chin;
Here conns his notes, and takes a whet,
Till the fmall ragged flock is met.
A traveller, who by did pass,
Obferv'd the roof behind the grass;
On tiptoe ftood, and rear'd his fnout,
And faw the parfon creeping out;
Was much furpriz'd to see a crow
Venture to build his nest so low.
A fchool-boy ran unto 't, and thought,
The crib was down, the blackbird caught.
A third, who loft his way by night,
Was forc'd for fafety to alight,
And, ftepping o'er the fabric-roof,
His horfe had like to spoil his hoof.
Warburton + took it in his noddle,
This building was design'd a model
Or of a pigeon-house or oven,
To bake one loaf, and keep one dove in.
Then Mrs Johnson ‡ gave her verdict,
And every one was pleas'd that heard it :
* Archdeacon Wall, a correfpondent of Swift's.
+ Dr. Swift's curate at Laracor.