"TO ALL YOU LADIES NOW AT LAND."

In justice you cannot refuse

To think of our distress,

When we for hopes of honour lose

Our certain happiness ;

All those designs are but to prove

Ourselves more worthy of your love.
With a fa, &c.

And now we've told you all our loves,

And likewise all our fears,

In hopes this declaration moves

Some pity for our tears;

Let's hear of no inconstancy,

We have too much of that at sea.

With a fa la, la, la, la.

261

THE SPLENDID SHILLING.

BY JOHN PHILIPS.

[JOHN PHILIPS was born at Bampton, in Oxfordshire, in 1676, and was educated at Oxford.

He died in 1708.

He is remarkable for his attachment to tobacco, which he mentions in all his pieces but one. His best poem is written "On Cyder," in imitation of the Georgics of Virgil; the following, which is a parody on the style of Milton, has always been very popular.]

HAPPY the man, who, void of care and strife,

In silken or in leathern purse retains

A Splendid Shilling: he nor hears with pain
New oysters cried, nor sighs for cheerful ale;
But with his friends, when nightly mists arise,
To Juniper's Magpie, or Town-hall repairs :
Where, mindful of the nymph, whose wanton eye
Transfix'd his soul, and kindled amorous flames,

Chloe or Phillis, he each circling glass

Wishes her health, and joy, and equal love.
Meanwhile he smokes, and laughs at merry tale,

Or pun ambiguous, or conundrum quaint.

But I, whom griping penury surrounds,

THE SPLENDID SHILLING.

And hunger, sure attendant upon want,

263

With scanty offals, and small acid tiff,
Wretched repast! my meagre corpse sustain :

Then solitary walk, or doze at home
In garret vile, and with a warming puff

Regale chill'd fingers; or from tube as black
As winter-chimney, or well-polish'd jet,
Exhale mundungus, ill-perfumèd scent:
Not blacker tube, nor of a shorter size,
Smokes Cambro-Britain (versed in pedigree,

Sprung from Cadwallader and Arthur, kings
Full famous in romantic tale) when he
O'er many a craggy hill and barren cliff,
Upon a cargo of famed Cestrian cheese,
High over-shadowing rides, with a design
To vend his wares, or at th' Avonian mart,
Or Maridunum, or the ancient town
Yclept Brechinia, or where Vaga's stream
Encircles Ariconium, fruitful soil!

Whence flow nectareous wines, that well may vie
With Massic, Setin, or renown'd Falern.

Thus, while my joyless minutes tedious flow With looks demure, and silent pace, a dun, Horrible monster! hated by gods and men, To my aërial 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? or whither turn? Amazed, Confounded, to the dark recess I fly

Of wood-hole; straight 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 Intrench'd with many a frown, and conic beard, And spreading band, admired by modern saints, Disastrous acts forebode; in his right hand Long scrolls of paper solemnly he waves,

THE SPLENDID SHILLING.

265

With characters and figures dire inscribed,

Grievous to mortal eyes (ye gods, avert

Such plagues from righteous men!) Behind him stalks.

Another monster, not unlike himself,

Sullen of aspect, by the vulgar call'd

A catchpole, whose polluted hands the gods
With force incredible, and magic charms,
First have endued: if he his ample palm
Should haply on ill-fated shoulder lay

Of debtor, straight his body, to the touch
Obsequious (as whilom knights were wont),
To some enchanted castle is convey'd,
Where gates impregnable, and coercive chains,
In durance strict detain him, till, in form
Of money, Pallas sets the captive free.

Beware, ye debtors! when ye walk, beware,

Be circumspect; oft with insidious ken
This caitiff eyes your steps aloof, and oft
Lies perdue in a nook or gloomy cave,
Prompt to enchant some inadvertent wretch
With his unhallow'd touch. So (poets sing)
Grimalkin, to domestic vermin sworn

An everlasting foe, with watchful eye

Lies nightly brooding o'er a chinky gap,

Portending her fell claws, to thoughtless mice

Sure ruin. So her disembowell'd web

Arachne, in a hall or kitchen, spreads

Obvious to vagrant flies: she secret stands

Within her woven cell; the humming prey,

M M