A Collection Of Poems :: :: University of Virginia Library

The busie Paths of active Men
Treading this foolish worldly Scene;
(With fruitless Strife whilst ev'ry Age
Is bustling thro' a crouded Stage.)
My sad reflective Thoughts engage,
Till soft repose and Gentle rest,
Hush'd ev'ry Tumult of the Breast;

183

And my Ideas, still the same,
Thus rang'd themselves into a Dream.

Methought! a Shilling, round and fair,
In Silver sounds harangu'd my Ear;
Which from its usual Prison freed,
Chanc'd on my Table to be laid:
And op'ning soft its polish'd Mouth,
Related this Historick Truth.

Here, Critick, spare the cross Objection,
Nor sneer my Tale as Idle fiction;
Tripods, you know, in Homer walk,
And Bacon's Head, tho' Brass, cou'd Talk,
Thus, as our use, or whim requires,
(Things known to modern Theatres)
Unheard of Prodigies advance,
Tea Pots may Sing, and Chairs can Dance.

184

“ME fair Peruvia's Climate nourish'd,
Where long our Family has flourish'd;
Witness the Bright continu'd Vein,
That thro' the Earth's wide Bosom ran,
E'er since the Sun with genial pow'r
First visited our sultry Shore.
But fearing my dear Country's Fate,
And fir'd 'gainst Spain with inbred hate;
Least I in Triumph shou'd be carried
In Galleons Prisoner to Madrid:
There wear the Habit of my Foes,
Their Spectacles and Mustachoes!
(Better to live in utmost Finland)
I e'en took Ship with Drake for ENGLAND.

Then good Eliza's happy sway
Adorn'd the Isle, and blest the Sea.

185

Soon as we reach'd fam'd London's Shore,
I was conducted to the Tower;
There by the Artist's curious pow'r,
And quick'ning Touch; no shapeless Ore
As Whilom lay, but in each Feature
Improv'd, I look'd a different Creature;
And chang'd in Form, in Mien, and Dress,
To my surprize, became Queen Bess.
A Ruff about my Neck was plac'd,
My Hands a Globe and Sceptre grac'd;
And in a beauteous Round displaid,
Fair Titles deck'd my letter'd Head.

Thus by the Coiner's forming bounty,
I seem'd a Native of the Country;
And, priviledg'd to roam, my mind
To Travel strangely was inclin'd.
'Twas Liberty's alluring Smile,
That drew me to her fav'rite Isle.

186

Too long in close Confinement pent,
No sooner had I left the Mint,
But strait in active Commerce run
To ev'ry Corner of the Town;
In ev'ry Square, and Street, and Alley,
From Tower-hill, to Piccadilly.
Or when my dwelling I wou'd change,
And in some Suburb choose to range,
My loco-motive Face was seen
At Hamstead, or at Turnham-Green.

In Lodgings better, or in worse,
In Silken, or in Leathern Purse,
In Galligaskins whole or torn,
To Market, Tavern, Playhouse born:
Now on a Mercer's Counter seated,
Now in a Brewer's Pocket sweated.

187

Sometimes was honour'd with a Place
In Cælia's, or in Chloe's Grace;
There took my temporary stand,
And often touch'd the beauteous Hand.
In a fair Station hap'ly blest,
Where Kings wou'd give their Crowns to rest:
E'en left the Service with content,
Upon some pretty Errand sent.
What mighty Kindness have I shown
To each Possessor in his turn?
When Stomach did for Victuals ach,
I've treated Macer with a Stake:
When the Beau fear'd a Show'rs approach,
For a spruce Templar got a Coach.
With me what Student e'er in Cloysters,
Or sigh'd for Ale, or pin'd for Oysters?
So happy was the fav'rites Case,
Whose honour'd Fob I deign'd to grace.

188

Say, Chymist, say, what cou'd be done
More, had you found your fancy'd Stone?

Thus I in restless Journey went,
From Place to Place, from Twede to Kent.
When my ill Stars in cruel Seizure,
Convey'd me to a griping Miser.
Where many crowded Tribes I found
Of my Relations in a Pound:
Unhappy Brotherhood! opprest
In the close Dungeon of a Chest.

There numerous Years in Bondage past,
Till the Old Dotard breath'd his last.
At the Young Lord's commanding Voice,
The Box flies Open in a Trice:
Again we see the Sun's dear Face,
Again renew our jolly Race;

189

To diff'rent Parts away we pack,
For Brandy one, and one for Sack.

In BRITAIN thus when Monarch dies,
And Royal Heir his Place supplies;
Thro' Newgate joyous Cries are heard,
The Debtor freed, the Prison clear'd.

Thence I continu'd much the same
In Honour, Figure, and Esteem;
Till the fam'd South-Sea's flatt'ring Year,
When Palaces were rais'd in Air;
As the fond Schemer ey'd my Figure,
Methought I look'd some Inches bigger.

But one adventure o'er the Rest,
(A thousand else in Silence past)
Is deeply Printed on my Breast.

192

Once then, the Tale perhaps you'll stare at,
My presence bless'd Poetick Garret.
When the Bard smit with eager Zeal,
A while forgot his Cheese and Ale.
Preferr'd me to the fairest Dame,
Near Vaga's Bank, or Severn's Stream:
Invok'd each Muse my Charms to tell,
That on his native Mountains dwell.
And while in Verse my Praise he sketches,
Regretted less his tatter'd Breeches.
Thus a glad Muses Hands I fell in,
(A People which I seldom deal in)
And hence the Poet's splendid Shilling.