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berlain refused to suffer it to be performed; and time he employed such intervals of health and spirits though the party in opposition so far encouraged it as he enjoyed, in writing his “ Acis and Galatea," by their subscriptions that it proved more profitable an opera called “ Achilles," and a « Serenata." to him than even the first part, it was a very feeble His death took place in 1732, at the early age of performance, and has sunk into total neglect. forty-four, in consequence of an inflammation of

Gay, in the latter part of his life, received the the bowels. He was sincerely lamented by bis kind patronage of the Duke and Duchess of Queens friends; and his memory was honoured by a monyberry, who took him into their house, and conde- ment in Westminster Abbey, and an epitaph in a scended to manage his pecuniary concerns. At this strain of uncommon sensibility by Pope.


Here blooming Health exerts her gentle reign,

| And strings the sinews of th' industrious swain RURAL SPORTS.

Soon as the morning lark salutes the day,
Through dewy fields I take my frequent way,
Where I behold the farmer's early care

In the revolving labours of the year.
Inscribed to Mr. Pope, 1713. *

When the fresh Spring in all her state is crown'da

And high luxuriant grass o'erspreads the ground, - Securi prælia ruris

The labourer with a bending scythe is seen,

NEMESIAN. Shaving the surface of the waving green;

Of all her native pride disrobes the land,

And meads lays waste before his sweeping hand;

While with the mounting Sun the meadow glows, You, who the sweets of rural life have known, The fading herbage round he loosely throws : Despise th' ungrateful hurry of the town;

But, if some sign portend a lasting shower, In Windsor groves your easy hours employ,

Th' experienc'd swain foresees the coming hour; And, undisturb’d, yourself and Muse enjoy.

His sun-burnt bands the scattering fork forsake, Thames listens to thy strains, and silent flows, And ruddy damsels ply the saving rake; And no rude wind through rustling osiers blows,

In rising hills the fragrant harvest grows, While all his wondering nymphis around thee And spreads along the field in equal rows. (gains, throng,

Now when the height of Heaven bright Phæbus To hear the Syrens warble in thy song.

And level rays cleave wide the thirsty plains, But I, who ne'er was blest by Fortune's hand, When heifers seek the shade and cooling lake, Nor brighten'd ploughshares in paternal land, And in the middle path-way basks the snake : Long in the noisy town have been immur'd, O lead me, guard me, from the sultry hours, Respir'd its smoke, and all its cares endur'd; Hide me, ye forests, in your closest bowers, Where news and politics divide mankind,

Where the tall oak his spreading arms entwines And schemes of state involve th' uneasy mind: And with the beach a mutual shade combines; Faction embroils the world ; and every tongue

Where flows the inurmuring brook, inviting dreams, Is mov'd by flattery, or with scandal hung :

Where bordering hazle overhangs the streams, Friendship, for sylvan shades, the palace flies,

Whose rolling current, winding round and round, Where all must yield to interest's dearer ties: With frequent falls makes all the woods resound; Each rival Machiavel with envy burns,

Upon the mossy couch my limbs I cast, And honesty forsakes them all by turns;

And e'en at noon the sweets of evening taste. While calumny upon each party's thrown,

Here I peruse the Mantuan's Georgic strains, Which both promote, and both alike disown.

And learn the labours of Italian swains; Fatigu'd at last, a calm retreat I chose,

In every page I see new landscapes rise,
And sooth'd my harass'd mind with sweet repose, And all Hesperia opens to my eyes;

Vhere fields and shades, and the refreshing clime. I wander o'er the various rural toil,
Inspire the sylvan song, and prompt my rhyme. And know the nature of each different soil :
My Muse shall rove through flowery meads and This waving field is gilded o'er with corn,

That spreading trees with blushing fruit adorn:
And deck with rural sports her native strains ; Here I survey the purple vintage grow,
And the same road ambitiously pursue,

Climb round the poles, and rise in graceful row : Frequented by the Mantuan swain and you. Now I behold the steed curvet and bound, 'Tis not that rural sports alone invite,

And paw with restless hoof the smoking ground : But all the grateful country breathes delight; The dewlap'd bull now chafes along the plain,

While burning love ferments in every vein; . This poem received many material corrections His well-armd front against his rival aims, from the author, after it was first published. And by the dint of war his mistress claims :

The careful insect 'midst his works I view, | He greedily sucks in the twining bait,
Now from the flowers exhaust the fragrant dew; And tugs and nibbles the fallacious meat :
With golden treasures load his little thighs,

Now, happy fisherman, now twitch the line!
And steer his distant journey through the skies; | How thy rod bends! behold, the prize is thine !
Some against hostile drones the hive defend,

Cast on the bank, he dies with gasping pains, Others with sweets the waxen cells distend, And trickling blood his silver mail distains. Each in the toil his destin's office bears,

You must not every worm promiscuous use, And in the little bulk a mighty soul appears. Judgment will tell the proper bait to choose :

Or when the ploughman Leaves the task of day The worm that draws a long immoderate size, And trudging homeward, whistles on the way ; The trout abhors, and the rank morsel flies; When the big-udder'd cows with patience stand, And, if too small, the naked fraud's in sight, Waiting the strokings of the damsel's hand; And fear forbids, while hunger does invite. No warbling cheers the woods; the feather'd choir, Those baits will best reward the fisher's pains To court kind slumbers, to the sprays retire : Whose polish'd tails a shining yellow stains: When no rude gale disturbs the sleeping trees, Cleanse them from filth, to give a tempting gloss, Nor aspen leaves confess the gentlest breeze; Cherish the sully'd reptile race with moss; Engag'd in thought, to Neptune's bounds I stray, Amid the verdant bed they twine, they toil, To take my farewell of the parting day;

And from their bodies wipe their native soil. Far in the deep the Sun his glory hides,

But when the Sun displays his glorious beams, A streak of gold the sea and sky divides :

And shallow rivers flow with silver streams,
The purple clouds their amber linings show, Then the deceit the scaly breed survey,
And, edg'd with flame, rolls every wave below: Bask in the sun, and look into the day :
Here pensive I behold the fading light,

You now a more delusive art must try,
And o'er the distant billow lose my sight.

And tempt their hunger with the curious fly. Now Night in silent state begins to rise,

To frame the little animal, provide And twinkling orbs bestrow th' uncloudy skies; All the gay hues that wait on female pride ; Her borrow'd lustre growing Cynthia lends, Let Nature guide thee! sometimes golden wire And on the main a glittering path extends; The shining bellies of the fly require; Millions of worlds hang in the spacious air, The peacock's plumes thy tackle must not fail, Włoch round their suns their annual circles steer ; Nor the dear purchase of the sable's tail. Sweet contemplation elevates my sense,

Each gaudy bird some slender tribute brings, While I survey the works of Providence.

And lends the growing insect proper wings : O could the Muse in loftier strains rehearse

Silks of all colours must their aid impart, The glorious Author of the universe,

And every fur promote the fisher's art. Who reins the winds, gives the vast ocean bounds, So the gay lady, with excessive caro, And circumscribes the floating worlds their rounds; Borrows the pride of land, of sea, and air : (plays, My soul should overflow in songs of praise, Furs, pearls, and plumes, the glittering thing disAnd my Creator's name inspire my lays !

Dazzles our eyes, and easy hearts betrays. As in successive course thc seasons roll,

Mark well the various seasons of the year, So circling pleasures recreate the soul.

How the succeeding insect race appear ; When genial Spring a living warmth bestows, In this revolving Moon one colour reigns, And o'er the year her verdant mantle throws, Which in the next the fickle trout disdains. No swelling inundation hides the grounds,

Oft have I seen the skilful angler try But crystal currents glide within their bounds; The various colours of the treacherous fly; The finny brood their wonted haunts forsake, When he with fruitless pain hath skimm'd the brook, Float in the sun, and skim along the lake;

And the coy fish rejects the skipping hook, With frequent leap they range the shallow streams, He shakes the boughs that on the margin grow, Their silver coats reflect the dazzling beams. Which o'er the stream a waving forest throw ; Nos let the fisherman his toils prepare,

When, if an insect fall, (his certain guide.) Ånd arm himself with every watery snare;

He gently takes him from the whirling tide ; His hooks, his lines, peruse with careful eye, Examines well his form with curious eyes, Increase his tackle, and his rod re-tye.

His gaudy vest, his wings, his horns, and size, When floating clouds their spongy fleeces drain, Then round his hook the chosen fur he winds, Troubling the streams with swift-descending rain; And on the back a speckled feather binds ; And waters tumbling down the mountain's side, So just the colours shine through every part, Bear the loose soil into the swelling tide;

That Nature seems again to live in Art. Tben soon as vernal gales begin to rise,

Let not thy wary step advance too near, And drive the liquid burthen through the skies, While all thy hopes hang on a single hair; The fisher to the neighbouring current speeds, The new-form'd insect on the water moves, Whose rapid surface purls unknown to weeds : The speckled trout the curious snare approves ; Upon a rising border of the brook

Upon the curling surface let it glide,
He sits him down, and ties the treacherous hook ; With natural motion from thy hand supply'd;
How expectation cheers his eager thought,

Against the stream now gently let it play,
His bosom glows with treasures yet uncaught ; Now in the rapid eddy rollaway,
Before his eyes a banquet seems to stand,

The scaly sboals float by, and, seiz'd with fear, Where every guest applauds his skilful hand. Behold their fellows tost in thinner air :

Par up the stream the twisted hair he throws, But soon they leap, and catch the swimming bait, Which down the murmuring current gently flows ; Plunge on the hook, and share an equal fate. When, if or chance or hunger's powerful sway When a brisk gale against the current blows, Directs the roving trout this fatal way,

| And all the watery plain in wrinkles flows,

Then let the fisherman his art repeat,

1 Yet, if for sylvan sports thy bosom glow, Where bubbling eddies favour the deceit,

Let thy fleet greyhound urge his flying foe. If an enormous salmon chance to spy

With what delight the rapid course I view! The wanton errours of the floating fly,

How does my eye the circling race pursue ! He lifts his silver gills above the flood,

He snaps deceitful air with empty jaws; And greedily sucks in th' unfaithful food;

The subtle hare darts swift beneath his paws; Then downward plunges with the fraudful prey, She flies, he stretches, now with nimble bound And bears with joy the little spoil away :

Eager he presses on, but overshoots his ground; Soon in smart pain he feels the dire mistake, She turns, he winds, and soon regains the way, Lashes the wave, and beats the foamy lake; Then tears with gory mouth the screaming prey. With sudden rage he now aloft appears,

What various sport does rural life afford! And in his eye convulsive anguish bears ;

What unbought dainties heap the wholesome board! And now again, impatient of the wound,

Nor less the spaniel, skilful to betray, He rolls and wreathes his shining body round; Rewards the fowler with the feather'd prey. Then headlong shoots beneath the dashing tide, Soon as the labouring horse, with swelling veins, The trembling fins the boiling wave divide. Hath safely hous'd the farmer's doubtful gains, Now hope exalts the fisher's beating heart,

To sweet repast th' unwary partridge flies, Now he turns pale, and fears his dubious art; With joy amid the scatter'd harvest lies; He views the tumbling fish with longing eyes, Wandering in plenty, danger he forgets, While the line stretches with th' unwieldy prize; Nor dreads the slavery of entangling nets. Each motion humours with his steady hands, The subtle dog scours with sagacious nose And one slight hair the mighty bulk commands; Along the field, and snuffs each breeze that blows; Till, tir'd at last, despoil'd of all his strength, Against the wind he takes his prudent way, The game athwart the stream unfolds his length. | While the strong gale directs him to the prey; He now, with pleasure, views the gasping prize | Now the warm scent assures the covey near, Gnash his sharp teeth, and roll his blood-shot eyes; . He treads with caution, and he points with fear : Then draws him to the shore, with artful care, Then (lest some sentry-fowl the fraud descry, And lifts his nostrils in the sickening air :

And bid his fellows from the danger fly) Upon the burthen'd stream he floating lies,

Close to the ground in expectation lies, Stretches his quivering fins, and gasping dies.

Till in the snare the fluttering covey rise. Would you preserve a numerous finny race;

Soon as the blushing light begins to spread, Let your fierce dogs the ravenous otter chase

And glancing Phæbus gilds the mountain's head, (Th' amphibious monster ranges all the shores, His early flight th' ill-fated partridge takes, Darts through the waves, and every haunt explores):

ry haunt explores): | And quits the friendly shelter of the brakes; Or let the gin his roving steps betray,

Or, when the Sun casts a declining ray,
And save from hostile jaws the scaly prey.

And drives his chariot down the western way,
I never wander where the bordering reeds Let your obsequious ranger search around,
O’erlook the muddy stream, whose tangling weeds Where yellow stubble withers on the ground;
Perplex the fisher; I nor choose to bear

Nor will the roving spy direct in vain,
The thievish nightly net, nor barbed spear; But numerous coveys gratify thy pain.
Nor drain I ponds, the golden carp to take, When the meridian Sun contracts the shade.
Nor troll for pikes, dispeoplers of the lake; And frisking heifers seek the cooling glade ;
Around the steel no tortur'd worm shall twine, Or when the country floats with sudden rains,
No blood of living insects stain my line.

Or driving mists deface the moisten'd plains; Let me, less cruel, cast the feather'd hook

In vain his toils th’ unskilful fowler tries, With pliant rod athwart the pebbled brook, While in thick woods the feeding partridge lies Silent along the mazy margin stray,

Nor must the sporting verse the gun forbear, And with the fur-wrought fly delude the prey.

But what's the fowler's be the Muse's care.
See how the well-taught pointer leads the way;

The scent grows warm; he stops : he springs the
Canto II.


The fluttering coveys from the stubble rise, Now, sporting Muse, draw in the flowing reins, And on swift wing divide the sounding skies; Leave the clear streams awhile for sunny plains.

The scattering lead pursues the certain sight, Should you the various arms and toils rehearse, And death in thunder overtakes their flight. And all the fisherman adorn thy verse;

Cool breathes the morning air, and Winter's hand Should you the wide encircling net display, Spreads wide her hoary mantle o'er the land ; And in its spacious arch enclose the sea;

Now to the copse thy lesser spaniel take, Then haul the plunging load upon the land, Teach him to range the ditch, and force the brake; And with the sole and turbot hide the sand; Not closest coverts can protect the game : It would extend the growing theme too long,

Hark! the dog opens ; take thy certain aim. And tire the reader with the watery song.

The woodcock flutters; how he wavering flies! Let the keen hunter from the chase refrain, The wood resounds : he wheels, he drops, he dies Nor render all the ploughman's labour vain,

The towering hawk let future poets sing, When Ceres pours out plenty from her horn, Who terrour bears upon his soaring wing And clothes the fields with golden ears of corn. | Let them on high the frighted hern survey, Now, now, ye reapers, to your task repair,

And lofty numbers point their airy fray. Haste! save the product of the bounteous year: Nor shall the mounting lark the Muse detain, To the wide-gathering hook long furrows yield, That greets the morning with his early strain; And rising sheaves extend through all the field.

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When, 'midst his song, the twinkling glass betrays, No midnight masquerade her beauty wears,
While from each angle flash the glancing rays, And health, not paint, the fading bloom repairs.
And in the Sun the transient colours blaze, If love's soft passion in her bosom reign,
Pride lures the little warbler from the skies : An equal passion warms her happy swain;
The light-enamour'd bird deluded dies.

No homebred jars her quiet state control,
But still the chase, a pleasing task, remains ; Nor watchful jealousy torments her soul;
The hound must open in these rural strains. With secret joy she sees her little race
Soon as Aurora drives away the night,

Hang on her breast, and her small cottage grace ; And edges eastern clouds with rosy light,

The fleecy ball their busy fingers cull, The healthy huntsman, with the cheerful horn, Or from the spindle draw the lengthening wool : Summons the dogs, and greets the dappled morn; | Thus flow her hours with constant peace of mind, The jocund thunder wakes th' enliven'd hounds, | Till age the latest thread of life unwind. They rouze from

sleep, and answer sounds for

sleep, and answer sounds for Ye happy fields, unknown to noise and strife, sounds;

The kind rewarders of industrious life; Wide through the furzy field their rout they take, Ye shady woods, where once I us'd to rove, Their bleeding bosoms force the thorny brake : Alike indulgent to the Muse and Love; The flying game their smoking nostrils trace, Ye murmuring streams that in meanders roll, No bounding hedge obstructs their eager pace; The sweet composers of the pensive soul! The distant mountains echo from afar,

Farewell ! — The city calls me from your bowers : And hanging woods resound the flying war: Farewell, amusing thoughts, and peaceful hours ! The tuneful noise the sprightly courser hears, Paws the green turf, and prieks his trembling ears; The slackend rein now gives him all his speed, Back flies the rapid ground beneath the steed; Hills, dales, and forests, far behind remain,

TRIVIA; While the warm scent draws on the deep-mouth'd

train. Where shall the trembling hare a shelter find ?

THE ART OF WALKING THE STREETS OF LONDON. Hark! death advances in each gust of wind ! Now stratagems and doubling wiles she tries,

IN THREE BOOKS. Now circling turns, and now at large she flies; Till, spent at last, she pants, and heaves for breath, Quo te Mori pedes? an, quo via ducit, in urbem ? Then lays her down, and waits devouring death.

But stav, adventurous Muse! hast thou the force
To wind the twisted horn, to guide the horse ?

Book I.
To keep thy seat unmov'd, hast thou the skill,
O'er the high gate, and down the headlong hill ?

Of the Implements for Walking the Streets, and Signs

of the Weather. Canst thou the stag's laborious chase direct, Or the strong fox through all his arts detect? THROUGH winter streets to steer your course aright, The theme demands a more experienc'd lay : How to walk clean by day, and safe by night; Ye mighty hunters! spare this weak essay. How jostling crowds with prudence to decline,

O happy plains, remote from war's alarms, When to assert the wall, and when resign, And all the ravages of hostile arms!

I sing : thou, Trivia, goddess, aid my song,
And happy shepherds, who, secure from fear, Through spacious streets conduct thy bard along;
On open downs preserve your fleecy care!

By thee transported, I securely stray
Wbose spacious barns groan with increasing store, Where winding alleys lead the doubtful way,
And whirling flails disjoint the cracking floor! The silent court and opening square explore,
No barbarous soldier, bent on cruel spoil,

And long perplexing lanes untrod before.
Spreads desolation o'er your fertile soil;

To pave thy realm, and smooth the broken ways, No trampling steed lays waste the ripen'd grain, Earth from her womb a flinty tribute pays; Nor crackling fires devour the promis'd gain; For thee the sturdy pavior thumps the ground, No flarning beacons cast their blaze afar,

Whilst every stroke his labouring lungs resound; The dreadful signal of invasive war;

For thee the scavenger bids kennels glide No trumpet's clangour wounds the mother's ear, Within their bounds, and heaps of dirt subside. And calls the lover from his swooning fair. | My youthful bosom burns with thirst of fame, What happiness the rural maid attends,

From the great theme to build a glorious name, In cheerful labour while each day she spends ! To tread in paths to ancient bards unknown, She gratefully receives what Heaven has sent, | And bind my temples with a civic crown : And, rich in poverty, enjoys content.

But more my country's love demands my lays; (Such happiness, and such unblemish'd fame, i My country's be the profit, mine the praise ! Ne'er glad the bosom of the courtly dame) : i When the black youth at chosen stands rejoice, She never feels the spleen's imagin'd pains, And “clean your shoes” resounds from every voice; Nor melancholy stagnates in her veins':

| When late their miry sides stage-coaches show, She never loses life in thoughtless ease,

And their stiff horses through the town move slow ; Nor on the velvet couch invites disease ;

When all the Mall in leafy ruin lies,
Her home-spun dress in simple neatness lies, And damsels first renew their oyster-cries :
And for no glaring equipage she sighs :

Then let the prudent walker shoes provide,
Her reputation, which is all her boast,

Not of the Spanish or Morocco hide ; In a malicious visit ne'er was lost;

The wooden heel may raise the dancer's bound, | And with the scallop'd top his step be crown'd:

Let firm, well hammer'd soles protect thy feet . happy streets ! to rumbling wheels unknown,
Thro’ freezing snows, and rains, and soaking sleet. | No carts, no coaches, shake the floating town!
Should the big last extend the shoe too wide, Thus was of old Britannia's city bless'd,
Each stone will wrench th' unwary step aside; Ere pride and luxury her sons possess'd;
The sudden turn may stretch the swelling vein, Coaches and chariots yet unfashion'd lay,
Thy cracking joint unhinge, or ancle sprain;

Nor late-invented chairs perplex'd the way :
And, when too short the modish shoes are worn, Then the proud lady tripp'd along the town,
You'll judge the seasons by your shooting corn.

And tuck'd-up petticoats secur'd her gown;
Nor should it prove thy less important care, Her rosy cheek with distant visits glow'd,
To choose a proper coat for winter's wear.

And exercise unartful charms bestow'd :
Now in thy trunk thy D'Oily habit fold,

But since in braided gold her foot is bound, The silken drugget ill can fence the cold;

And a long training mantua sweeps the ground, The frieze's spongy nap is soak'd with rain, Her shoe disdains the street; the lazy fair, And showers soon drench the camlet's cockled grain; With narrow step, affects a limping air. True Witney * broad-cloth, with its shag unshorn,

Now gaudy pride corrupts the lavish age,
Unpierc'd is in the lasting tempest worn:

And the streets flame with glaring equipage;
Be this the horseman's fence, for who would wear The tricking gamester insolently rides,
Amid the town the spoils of Russia's bear?

With Loves and Graces on his chariot sides;
Within the roquelaure's clasp thy hands are pent,

In saucy state the griping broker sits, Hands, that, stretch'd forth, invading harms prevent. | And laughs at honesty and trudging wits. Let the loop'd bavaroy the fop embrace,

For you, O honest men ! these useful lays Or his deep cloke bespatter'd o'er with lace.

The Muse prepares ; I seek no other praise. That garment best the winter's rage defends,

When sleep is first disturb'd by morning cries, Whose ample form without one plait depends;

| From sure prognostics learn to know the skies, By various names + in various counties known,

Lest you of rheums and coughs at night complain; Yet held in all the true surtout alone;

Surpris'd in dreary fogs, or driving rain. Be thine of kersey firm, though small the cost, When suffocating mists obscure the morn, Then brave unwet the rain, unchill'd the frost.

Let thy worst wig, long us’d to storms, be worn; If the strong cane support thy walking hand, This knows the powder'd footman, and wiih care Chairmen no longer shall the wall command ; Beneath his flapping hat secures his hair. Ev'n sturdy carmen shall thy nod obey,

Be thou for every season justly drest, And rattling coaches stop to make thee way :

Nor brave the piercing frost with open breast; This shall direct thy cautious tread aright,

And, when the bursting clouds a deluge pour, Though not one glaring lamp enliven night. Let thy surtout defend the drenching shower. Let beaux their canes, with amber tipt, produce ; The changing weather certain signs reveal. Be theirs for empty show, but thine for use. Ere Winter sheds her snow, or frosts congeal, In gilded chariots while they loll at ease,

You'll see the coals in brighter flame aspire, And lazily ensure a life's disease;

And sulphur tinge with blue the rising fire; While softer chairs the tawdry load convey

Your tender shins the scorching heat decline, To court, to White's t, assemblies, or the play;

And at the dearth of coals the poor repine; Rosy-complexion'd Health thy steps attends,

Before her kitchen hearth, the nodding dame, And exercise thy lasting youth defends.

In fannel mantle wrapt, enjoys the flame; Imprudent men Heaven's choicest gifts profane : | Hovering, upon her feeble knees she bends, Thus some beneath their arm support the cane;

And all around the grateful warmth ascends. The dirty point oft checks the careless pace,

Nor do less certain signs the town advise And miry spots the clean cravat disgrace.

| Of milder weather and serener skies. Oh! may I never such misfortune meet!

The ladies, gaily dress'd, the Mall adorn May no such vicious walkers crowd the street ! With various dyes, and paint the sunny morn: May Providence o'ershade me with her wings, The wanton fawns with frisking pleasure range, While the bold Muse experienc'd danger sings! | And chirping sparrows greet the welcome change,

Not that I wander from my native home, Not that their minds with greater skill are fraught, And (tempting perils) foreign cities roam. | Endued by instinct, or by reason taught : Let Paris be the theme of Gallia's Muse,

The scasons operate on every breast; Where slavery treads the streets in wooden shoes.

'Tis hence the fawns are brisk, and ladies drest. Nor do I rove in Belgia's frozen clime,

When on his box the nodding coachman snores, And teach the clumsy boor to skate in rhyme;

And dreams of fancy'd fares; when tavern doors Where, if the warmer clouds in rain descend, The chairmen idly crowd ; then ne'er refuse No miry ways industrious steps offend;

To trust thy busy steps in thinner shoes. The rushing flood from sloping pavements pours, But when the swinging signs your ears offend And blackens the canals with dirty showers. With creaking noise, then rainy floods impend; Let others Naples' smoother streets rehearse, Soon shall the kennels swell with rapid streams, And with proud Roman structures grace their verse, And rush in muddy torrents to the Thames. Where frequent murders wake the night with groans, The bookseller, whose shop's an open square, And blood in purple torrents dyes the stones. Foresees the tempest, and with early care, Nor shall the Muse through narrow Venice stray, Of learning strips the rails; the rowing crew, Where gondolas their painted oars display.

To tempt a fare, clothe all their tilts in blue; • A town in Oxfordshire.

* Haud equidem credo, quia sit divinitus illis, + A Joseph, wrap-rascal, &c.

Ingenium, aut rerum fato prudentia major. | A chocolate house in St. James's strect.

VIRG. Georg. I.

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