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N ev'ry Town where Thamis rolls his Tyde,
A narrow Pass there is, with Houses low
Where ever and anon, the Stream is ey'd,
And many a Boat soft sliding to and fro.

There oft are heard the notes of Infant Woe,


The fhort thick Sob, loud Scream, and fhriller


How can ye, Mothers, vex your children fo?

Some play, fome eat, fome cack against the wall, And as they crouchen low, for bread and butter call.


And on the broken pavement, here and there,
Doth many a stinking sprat and herring lie;
A brandy and tobacco fhop is near,

And hens, and dogs, and hogs are feeding by;
And here a failor's jacket hangs to dry.
At ev'ry door are fun-burnt matrons feen,
Mending old nets to catch the scaly fry,



Now finging fhrill, and fcolding eft between ; Şcolds anfwer foul-mouth'd fcolds; bad neighbourhood I ween.


The fnappish cur, (the paffengers annoy)


Clofe at my heel with yelping treble flies;
The whimp'ring girl, and hoarfer-fcreaming boy,
Join to the yelping treble, fhrilling cries;
The fcolding Quean to louder notes doth rise,
And her full pipes thofe fhrilling cries confound;
To her full pipes the grunting hog replies;
The grunting hogs alarm the neighbours round,
And curs, girls, boys, and fcolds, in the deep base are


Hard by a Sty, beneath a roof of thatch,
Dwelt Obloquy, who in her early days
Baskets of fish at Billinfgate did watch,


Cod, whiting, oyfter, mackrel, sprat, or plaice: There learn'd she speech from tongues that never


Slander befide her, like a Mag-pie, chatters,
With Envy, (fpitting Cat) dread foe to peace;
Like a curs'd Cur, Malice before her clatters,
Andvexing ev'ry wight, tears clothes and all to tatters.


Her dugs were mark'd by ev'ry Collier's hand,
Her mouth was black as bull-dogs at the stall:
She scratched, bit, and spar'd ne lace ne band,
And bitch and rogue her answer was to all;



Nay, e'en the parts of fhame by name would call : Yea, when the paffed by or lane or nook,

Would greet the man

who turn'd him to the Wall,

And by his hand obfcene the porter took,

Nor ever did askance like modest Virgin look. 45


Such place hath Deptford, navy-building town, Woolwich and Wapping, smelling ftrong of pitch; Such Lambeth, envy of each band and gown, And Twick'nam fuch, which fairer fcenes enrich, Grots, ftatues, urns, and Jo-n's Dog and Bitch, Ne village is without, on either fide,

All up the filver Thames, or all adown ;

Ne Richmond's felf, from whofe tall front are ey'd Vales, fpires, meandring ftreams, and Windfor's tow'ry pride.

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A heart refign'd the conqueft of your eyes:
Well might, alas! that threatned veffel fail,
Which winds and lightning both at once affail.
We were too bleft with thefe inchanting lays,
Which must be heav'nly when an Angel plays:
But killing charms your lover's death contrive,
Left heav'nly music should be heard alive.
Orpheus could charm the trees, but thus a tree,
Taught by your hand, can charm no less than he:
A poet made the filent wood purfue,

This vocal wood had drawn the Poet too.


On a FAN of the Author's defign, in which was painted the ftory of CEPHALUS and PROCRIS, with the Motto, AURA VENI.

C. While Procris panted in the fecret shade;

COME, gentle Air! th'Eolian fhepherd faid,

Come, gentle Air, the fairer Delia cries,
While at her feet her fwain expiring lies.
Lo the glad gales o'er all her beauties stray,
Breathe on her lips, and in her bosom play!
In Delia's hand this toy is fatal found,
Nor could that fabled dart more furely wound:
Both gifts deftructive to the givers prove;
Alike both lovers fall by those they love.

Yet guiltless too this bright destroyer lives,

At random wounds, nor knows the wounds she gives :
She views the story with attentive eyes,
And pities Procris, while her lover dies,

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