Sing, heavenly Mufe,
Things unattempted yet, in profe or rhime,
A fbilling, breeches, and chimeras dire.
APPY the man, who, void of cares and ftrife,
In filken or in leathern purse retains
A Splendid Shilling: he nor hears with pain
New oyfters cry'd, nor fighs for chearful ale;
But with his friends, when nightly mists arise, 5
To Juniper's-Magpye, or Town-Hall repairs:
Where, mindful of the nymph, whose wanton eye
Transfix'd his foul, and kindled amorous flames,
Chloe, or Phillis, he each circling glass
Wisheth her health, and joy, and equal love. 10
Meanwhile, he fmoaks, and laughs at merry tale,
Or pun ambiguous, or conundrum quaint.
But I, whom griping penury furrounds,
And hunger, fure attendant
With fcanty offals, and fmall acid tiff
(Wretched repaft!) my meagre corps sustain;
Then folitary 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-perfuming scent;
Not blacker tube, nor of a shorter fize,
Smokes Cambro-Britain (vers'd in pedigree)
Sprung from Cadwalader and Arthur, kings
Full famous in romantick tale) when he
O'er many a craggy hill and barren cliff,
Upon a cargo of fam'd Ceftrian cheese,
High over-fhadowing rides, with a defign
To vend his wares, or at th' Arvonian marte,
Or Maridunum, or the ancient town
Yclip'd Brechinia, or where Vaga's stream
Encircles Ariconium, fruitful foil!
Whence flow nectareous wines, that well may vie With Maffic, Setin, or renown'd Falern.
Thus while my joyless minutes tedious flow, 35 With looks demure, and filent pace, a Dun, Horrible monster! hated by gods and men, Το my aërial citadel afcends,
With vocal heel thrice thund'ring at my gate,
With hideous accent thrice he calls; I know 40
The voice ill-boding, and the folemn found.
What should I do? or whither turn? Amaz'd,
Confounded, to the dark recefs I fly
Of wood-hole; ftrait my briftling hairs erect
Thro' fudden fear; a chilly sweat bedews
My fhud'ring limbs, and (wonderful to tell!)
My tongue forgets her faculty of fpeech;
So horrible he feems! His faded brow
Entrench'd with many a frown, and conic beard,
And spreading band, admir'd by modern faints,
Difaftrous acts forebode; in his right hand
Long fcrolls of paper folemnly he waves,
With characters and figures dire inscrib'd,
Grievous to mortal eyes; (ye gods, avert
Such plagues from righteous men!) Behind him
Another monfter, not unlike himself,
Sullen of afpect, by the vulgar call'd
A Catchpole, whofe polluted hands the gods
With force incredible, and magick charms,
Erft have endu'd: if he his ample palm
Should haply on ill-fated fhoulder lay
Of debtor, ftrait his body to the touch
Obfequious, (as whilom knights were wont)
To fome inchanted caftle is convey'd,
Where gates impregnable, and coercive chains,
In durance ftrict detain him, till, in form
Of money, Pallas fets the captive free.
Beware, ye debtors, when ye walk, beware,
Be circumfpect; oft with infidious ken
The caitiff eyes your steps aloof, and oft
Lies perdue in a nook or gloomy cave,
Prompt to inchant fome inadvertent wretch
With his unhallow'd touch. So (poets fing)
Grimalkin, to domeftick vermin fworn
An everlasting foe, with watchful eye
Lies nightly brooding o'er a chinky gap,
Protending her fell claws, to thoughtless mice
Sure ruin. So her disembowell'd web
Arachne, in a hall or kitchin, fpreads
Obvious to vagrant flies: she secret stands
Within her woven cell; the humming prey,
Regardless of their fate, rush on the toils
Inextricable, nor will aught avail
Their arts, or arms, or shapes of lovely hue;
The wafp infidious, and the buzzing drone,
And butterfly proud of expanded wings
Distinct with gold, entangled in her fnares
Ufelefs refiftance make: with eager ftrides
She tow'ring flies to her expected spoils;
Then, with envenom'd jaws, the vital blood
Drinks of reluctant foes, and to her cave
Their bulky carcaffes triumphant drags.
So pass my days. But, when nocturnal shades This world invelop, and th' inclement air
Perfuades men to repel benumming frofts
With pleasant wines, and crackling blaze of wood;
Me, lonely fitting, nor the glimmering light
Of make-weight candle, nor the joyous talk
Of loving friend, delights; diftrefs'd, forlorn,
Amidst the horrors of the tedious night,
Darkling I figh, and feed with difmal thoughts
My anxious mind; or sometimes mournful verse
Indite, and fing of groves and myrtle shades,
Or desperate lady near a purling stream,
Or lover pendant on a willow-tree.
Meanwhile I labour with eternal drought,
And restless wish, and rave; my parched throat
Finds no relief, nor heavy eyes repose:
But if a flumber haply does invade
My weary limbs, my fancy's ftill awake,
Thoughtful of drink, and eager, in a dream,
Tipples imaginary pots of ale,
In vain; awake I find the fettled thirst
Still gnawing, and the pleasant phantom curse.
Thus do I live, from pleasure quite debarr'd, Nor tafte the fruits that the fun's genial rays Mature, John-apple, nor the downy peach, Nor walnut in rough-furrow'd coat fecure, Nor medlar-fruit, delicious in decay: Afflictions great! yet greater still remain : My galligaskins, that have long withstood The winter's fury, and incroaching frosts,
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