Here fmoaks his forge, he bares his finewy arm,
And early ftrokes the founding anvil warm:
Around his fhop the fteely fparkles flew,
As for the fteed he fhap'd the bending shoe.
When blue-ey'd Patty near his window came,
His anvil refts, his forge forgets to flame.
To hear his foothing tales fhe feigns delays;
What woman can refift the force of praise ?

At first the coyly ev'ry kifs withstood,
And all her cheek was flush'd with modest blood:
With headless nails he now furrounds her shoes,
To fave her fteps from rains and piercing dews;
She lik'd his foothing tales, his prefents wore,
And granted kiffes, but would grant no more.
Yet winter chill'd her feet, with cold she pines,,
And on her cheek the fading rose declines;
No more her humid eyes their luftre boast,
And in hoarfe founds her melting voice is loft.

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This Vulcan faw, and in his heav'nly thought,

A new machine mechanick fancy wrought,
Above the mire her fhelter'd fteps to raife,
And bear her fafely through the wintry ways.

Strait the new engine on his anvil glows,

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And the pale virgin on the patten rose,

No more her lungs are fhook with dropping rheums,,
And on her cheek reviving beauty blooms.
The God obtain'd his fuit; tho' flatt'ry fail,
Prefents with female virtue muft prevail.
The patten now fupports each frugal dame,
Which from the blue-ey'd Patty takes the name.

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TRIVIA.

TRIVI

A.

TH

BOOK II.

Of Walking the Streets by Day.

HUS far the Mufe has trac'd in ufefub lays, The proper implements for wintry ways; Has taught the walker, with judicious eyes,

To read the various warnings of the skies.

Now venture, Mufe, from home to range the town, 5
And for the publick fafety rifque thy own..

For eafe and for dispatch, the morning's beft;
No tides of paffengers the ftreet moleft.
You'll fee a draggled damfel here and there,
From Billing/gate her fishy traffick bear;,

On doors the fallow milkmaid chalks her gains;
Ah! how unlike the milkmaid of the plains!
Before proud gates attending affes bray,

Or arrogate with folemn pace the way;

10

Thefe grave phyficians with their milky chear, 15
The love-fick maid and dwindling beau repair;

Here rows of drummers ftand in martial file,
And with their vellum thunder fhake the pile,
To greet the new-made bride.. Are founds like these
The proper prelude to a ftate of peace?

Now induftry awakes her bufy fons,

Full charg❜d with news the breathlefs hawker runs:

20

Shops

Shops open, coaches roll, carts shake the ground,
And all the streets with paffing cries refound.

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30

If cloath'd in black, you tread the busy town, Or if diftinguish'd by the rev'rend gown, Three trades avoid; oft in the mingling press, The barber's apron foils the fable dress; Shun the perfumer's touch with cautious eye, Nor let the baker's ftep advance too nigh: Ye walkers too that youthful colours wear, Three fullying trades avoid with equal care; The little chimney-fweeper fkulks along, And marks with footy ftains the heedless throng; When small-coal murmurs in the hoarfer throat, 35. From fmutty dangers guard thy threaten'd coat: The duft-man's cart offends thy cloaths and eyes, When through the street a cloud of ashes flies; But whether black or lighter dyes are worn, The chandler's basket, on his shoulder borne, With tallow spots thy coat; refign the way, To fhun' the furly butcher's greasy tray, Butchers, whofe hands are dy'd with blood's foul ftain, And always foremost in the hangman's train.

Let due civilities be ftrictly paid,

The wall furrender to the hooded maid;
Nor let thy sturdy elbow's hafty rage
Joftle the feeble steps of trembling age:

And when the porter bends beneath his load,
And
pants for breath, clear thou the crouded road.
But, above all, the groping blind direct,
And from the preffing throng the lame protect.
You'll fometimes meet a fop of nicest tread,
Whofe mantling peruke veils his empty head,
At ev'ry ftep he dreads the wall to lofe,

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45

51

55

And rifques to fave a coach, his red-heel'd fhoes,

Him,

Him, like the miller, pafs with caution by,
Left from his shoulder clouds of powder fly.
But when the bully, with affuming pace,

Cocks his broad hat, edg'd round with tarnish'd lace,
Yield not the way; defy his ftrutting pride,
And trust him to the muddy kennel's fide;
He never turns again, nor dares oppofe,
But mutters coward curfes as he goes.

If drawn by bufinefs to a ftreet unknown,
Let the fworn porter point thee through the town;
Be fure obferve the figns, for figns remain,
Like faithful landmarks to the walking train.
Seek not from 'prentices to learn the way,
Those fabling boys will turn thy steps astray;
Ask the grave tradefman to direct thee right,
He ne'er deceives, but when he profits by't.
Where fam'd St. Giles's ancient limits spread,
An inrail'd column rears its lofty head,

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80

Here to fev'n streets feven dials count the day, 75
And from each other catch the circling ray.
Here oft the peafant, with enquiring face,
Bewilder'd, trudges on from place to place;
He dwells on ev'ry sign with stupid gaze,
Enters the narrow alley's doubtful maze,
Tries ev'ry winding court and street in vain,
And doubles o'er his weary steps again.
Thus hardy Thefeus with intrepid feet,
Travers'd the dang'rous labyrinth of Crete;
But ftill the wandring paffes forc'd his stay,
Till Ariadne's clue unwinds the way.

But do not thou, like that bold chief, confide
Thy ventrous footsteps to a female guide;
She'll lead thee with delufive fmiles along,
Dive in thy fob, and drop thee in the throng.

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90

When

95

When waggish boys the ftunted beefom ply
To rid the flabby pavement, pafs not by
Ere thou haft held their hands; fome heedlefs flirt
Will overspread thy calves with fpatt'ring dirt.
Where porters hogfheads roll from carts aflope,
Or brewers down steep cellars ftretch the rope,
Where counted billets are by carmen toft,
Stay thy rafh step, and walk without the poft.
What though the gath'ring mire thy feet befmear,
The voice of industry is always near.

Hark! the boy calls thee to his deftin'd ftand,
And the fhoe fhines beneath his oily hand.
Here let the Muse, fatigu'd amid the throng,
Adorn her precepts with digreffive fong;
Of shirtless youths the secret rife to trace,
And fhew the parent of the fable race.

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Like mortal man, great Jove (grown fond of change) Of old was wont this nether world to range

To feek amours; the vice the monarch lov'd
Soon through the wide etherial court improv'd,
And ev'n the proudest Goddess now and then
Would lodge a night among the fons of men ;
To vulgar Deities defcends the fashion,

. Each, like her betters, had her earthly paffion.
Then Cloacina (Goddefs of the tide

Whose fable streams beneath the city glide)
Indulg'd the modifh flame; the town fhe rov'd;
A mortal fcavenger fhe faw, the lov'd;
The muddy spots that dry'd upon his face,
Like female patches, heighten'd ev'ry grace:

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*Cloacina was a Goddefs whofe image Tatius (a king of the Sabines) found in the common fhore, and not knowing what God-~ defs it was, he called it Cloacina from the place in which it was found, and paid to it divine honours. Lactant. 1, 20. Minut. Fel. Od. p. 232.

She