Fond on each project to depend,
Kind hope his only faithful friend;
Odd whimies floating in his brain,
He plots, contrives, but all in vain,
Approves, rejects, and thinks again.
As when the fhipwreck'd wretch is toft
From wave to wave, and almoft loft,
Beat by the billows from the thore,

Returns half drown'd, and hugs once more
The friendly plank he grasp'd before :
So Frank, when all expedients fail,
Tofave his carcafs from a gaol,

Eat up with vermin and with care,
And almoft finking in defpair,

Refolves once more to make his court

To his old aunt, his laft refort:

Takes pen in hand, now writes, now tears,
Then wets his paper with his tears,
Ranfacks his troubled foul, to raise
Each tender fentiment and phrase;
And every lane excuse supplies
With artful colouring and disguise:
Kind to himfelf, lays all the blame
On Fortune, that capricious dame:
In hort, informs her all was loft,
Ard fends it by the penny-poft.
Soon as the ancient nymph had read
The fatal feroll, fhe took her bed,
Cold palfies feize her trembling head;

She

groins, fhe fighs, fhe fobs, the smears Her fpectacles and beard with tears; Her nofe that wont to fympathize With all th' o erflowings of her eyes, Adown in pearly drops diftils, Th united ftream each chaim fills. Geneva now, nor Nants will do, Her toothless gums their hold let go; And on the ground, O fatal stroke! The fhort coaval pipe is broke:

With

vapours schoak'd, entranc'd fhe lies, Belches, and prays, and f-ts, and dies; Bit fleep, that kind restorative, Recall'd her foul, and bid her live, With cooler thoughts the cafe fhe weigh'd, And brought her reafon to her aid. Away the hobbles, and with speed Reloives to fee the captive freed;

V

ipe off this ftain and foul difgrace,

And vindicate her ancient race.

With her a fage director comes,
More weighty than a brace of plumbs,
Ad man in the city cant,

Where cafh, not morals, makes the faint. Timprove a genius fo polite,

The cluinfy thing was dubb'd a knight : Fortune's chief confident and friend, Grown fat by many a dividend; And ftil her favour he retains, By want of merit and of brains; On her top fpoke fublime he fits, The jeft and theme of faeering wits: For fools in Fortune's pillory plac'd Are mounted to be more difgrac'd. This rich old Hunks, as Woodcock wife, V. as call'd the younker to advile: VOL. V.

"Young man, faid he, refrain from tears, "While joyful tidings blefs thine ears;

་་

Up and be doing, boy, and try "To conquer fate by indultry; "For know that all of mortal race, Are born to loffes and difgrace: "Ev'n I broke twice, 1, heretofore "A tailor defpicably poor,

"In every hole for fhelter crept

"On the fame bulk, botch'd, .ous'd, and flept, "With fearce one penny to prepare

"A friendly halter in defpair; "My cr dit like a garment torn, "Thread-bare, and ragged, over-worn: "But foon I patch'd it up again, "These bufy hands, this working brain, "Ne'er ceas'd from labour, pain, and sweat, "Till fortune fmil'd, and I was great, "Now at each pompous city feaft, "Who but Sir Tristram? Every guest

Refpectful bows. In each debate, "My nod must give the fentence weight: "On me prime minifters attend, "And

Aiflabie 's my friend : "In embryo each bold project lies, Till my confenting purfe fupplies. "This hand-nay do not think me vain, "Soften'd the Swede and humbled Spain. "To me the fair, whom all adore,

"Addrefs their prayers, and own my power; "When the poor toast by break of day

Has punted all her gold away, "Undrefs'd, and in her native charms, "She flies to thefe indulgent arms; "She curls each dimple in her face "To win the good Sir Tristram's grace; "Offers her brilliants with a fmile, "That might an anchoret beguile; "And when my potent aid is lent,

Away the dear-one wheels content. "He that can money get, my boy, "Shall every other good enjoy; "Be rich, and every boon receive, "That min can with, or Heaven can give. "Now to the means, dear youth, attend,

By which thy forrows foon fhall end: Thy good old aunt refolves to bail Her hopeful godfon out of gaol; "But what is freedom to the poor? "The man who begs from door to door "Is free; in lazy wretchednets

He lives, till Heaven his fubftance blefs; "But, having learnt to cog and choufe, "To cut a purfe, or break a houte, "Then foon he mends his own apparel, "Fats boil'd and roaft, and taps his barrel; "Drinks double bub, with all his might, "And hugs his doxy every night: "Thy fprightly genius ne'er fhail lie Deprefs'd by want and penury; "Go, with a profperous merry gale, "To the South Seas adventurous fail; "Fat Plenty dwells on thofe rich shores, "Abundance opens all her ftores;

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Ingots

"Nor veers, as here, with every wind; "Not, as in these penurious ifles,

Retails her bleffings and her fmiles;

But deals by wholefale with her friends, "And gluts them with her dividends. "Then hafte, fet fail, the fhip's unmoor'd, 66 And waits to take thee now on board." The youth o'erjoyed this project hears, From his flock-bed his head he rears, And waters all his rags with tears. In short, he took his friend's advice, Pack'd up his baggage in a trice; Dancing for joy, on board he flew, With all Potofi in his view.

BE

CANTO IV.

EHOLD the youth just now fet free On land, immur'd again at sea ; Stow'd with his cargo in the hold, In queft of other worlds for gold. He who fo late regal'd at ease, On olios, foups, and fricaffees; Drank with the witty and the gay, Sparkling Champaign, and rich Tokay; Now breaks his faft with Suffolk cheese, And burfts at noon with pork and peafe; Instead of wine, content to fip, With noify tars, their naufeous flip : Their breath, with chew'd mundungus fweet, Their jefts more fulfome than their meat. While thunder rolls, and ftorms arife, He fnoring in his hammock lies; In golden dreams enjoys the night, And counts his bags with vaft delight. Mountains of gold erect his throne, Each precious gem is now his own; Kind Jove defcends in golden fleet, Pactolus murmurs at his feet; The fea gives up its hoarded store, Poffefling all, he covets more. O gold attractive gold! in vain Honour and confcience would retrain Thy boundless universal reign. To thee each ftubborn virtue bends, The man oblig'd betrays his friends; The patriot quits his country's cause, And fells her liberty and laws: The pious prude 's no longer nice, And ev'n lawn fleeves can flatter vice. At thy too abfolute command, Thy zealots ranfack fea and land: Whereever thy beams thy power display, The fwarming infects hafte away, To bask in thy refulgent ray.

Now the bold crew with profperous wind,
Leave the retreating land behind;
Fearless they quit their native shore,
And Albion's cliffs are feen no more.
Then on the wide Atlantic borne,
Their rigging and their tackle torn;
Danger in various shapes appears,
Sudden alarms, and fhivering fears
Here, might fome copious bard dilate
And show fierce Neptune drawn in state;
While guards of Tritons clear his way,
And Nereids round his chariot play;
Then bid the stormy Boreas rise,
And forky lightning cleave the fkies;
The ship nigh foundering in the deep,
Or bounding o'er the ridgy steep:
Defcribe the monsters of the main,
The Phocæ, and their finny train,
Tornados, hurricanes, and rain,
Spouts, fheals, and rocks of dreadful fize,
And pirates lurking for their prize;
Amazing miracles rehearse,
And turn all Dampier into verfe.
My negligent and humble Muse
Lefs ambitious aims pursues ;
Content with more familiar phrafe,
Nor deals in fuch embroidered lays;
Pleas'd if my rhime just measure keeps,
And stretch'd at ease my reader fleeps.
Hibernian matrons thus of old,
Their foporific ftories told;

To fleep in vain the patient ftrove,
Perplex'd with bufinefs, crofs'd in love;
Till foothing tales becalm'd his breaft,
And lull'd his troubled foul to reft.
Suffice it only to recite,

They drank all day, they fnor'd all night:
And, after many moons were past,

They made the wifh'd-for fhores at laft.
Frank, with his cargo in his hand,
Leap'd joyful on the golden ftrand;
Open'd his toy-fhop in the port,
Trinkets of various fize and fort;

Bracelets and combs, bodkins and tweezers,
Bath-metal rings, and knives, and fciffars;
And in one lucky day got more
Than Bubble-boy in half a score:
For Fortune now, no longer coy,
Smil'd on her darling favourite boy;
No longer from his arms retir'd,
But gave him all his heart defir'd.
Ah! thoughtless youth! intime beware,
And fhun the treacherous harlot's frare ;
The wifer favages behold,

Who truck not liberty for gold;
Proof against all her fubtle wiles,
Regardless of her frowns or smiles ;`
If frugal Nature want fupplies,
The lance or dart unerring flies:
The mountain boar their prey descends,
Or the fat kid regales their friends;
The jocund tribe, from fun to fun,
Feaft on the prize their valour won.
Ceafe, babbling Mufe, thy vain advice,
'Tis thrown away on avarice :

B

Bid hungry lions quit their prey,
Or ftreams that down the mountains ftray
Divert their course, return again,

And climb the steep from whence they came.
Unbleft with his ill-gotten store,

Th' infatiate youth ftill craves for more;
To counfel deaf, t' examples blind,
Scrapes up whatever he can find.
Now mafter of a veffel grown,

With all the glittering freight his own,
To Fortune ftill he makes his court,
And coafts along from port to port.
Each rolling tide brings freth fupplies,
And heaps on heaps delight his eyes.
Through Panama's delicious bay,
The loaded veffel ploughs her way;
With the rich freight oppress'd she fails,
And fummons all the friendly gales.
Frank on her deck triumphant stood,
And view'd the calm transparent flood:
Let book-learn'd fots, faid he, adore
Th' afpiring hills that grace thy fhore;
Thy verdant ifles, the groves that bow
Their nodding heads, and shade thy brow;
Thy face ferene, thy gentle breaft,
Where Syrens fing, and Halcyons rest:
Propitious flood on me bestow
The treasures of thy dephts below;
Which long in thy dark womb have flept,
From age to age fecurely kept.

Scarce had he fpoke, when, ftrange furprize!
Th' indignant waves in mountains rife,
And hurricanes invade the skies;
The fhip against the fhoals was ftruck,
And in a thousand pieces broke;
But one poor trufty plank, to fave
Its owner from the watery grave:
On this he mounts, is caft on fhore,
Half dead, a bankrupt as before:
Spiritlefs, fainting, and alone,

On the bare beach he makes his moan.
Then climbs the ragged rock, t' explore
If aught was driving on the fhore,
The poor remains of all his ftore:
With greedy diligence prepar'd
To fave whate'er the waves had fpar'd.
But, oh! the wretch expects in vain
Compaffion from the furious main ;
Men, goods, are funk. Mad with despair
He beat his breaft, he tore his hair:
Then leaning o'er the craggy fteep,
Look'd down into the boiling deep;
Almoft refolv'd to caft himself,
And perish with his dear, dear pelf.

Each treacherous crony hides his face,
Or ftarts whene'er he haunts the place.
His wealth thus loft, with that his friends,
On Fortune ftill the youth depends:
One fmile, faid he, will foon restore
A bankrupt wretch, and give him more;
She will not, fure, refuse her aid?
Fallacious hope! for the falfe jade
That very day took wing, was flown,
And on her wonted journey gone
(Intent her coftly goods to fell)
From Panama to Portobel:

Five hundred mules her baggage bear,
And groan beneath the precious ware,
The goddess rides fublime in air;
And hence conveys a fresh fupply,
For pride, debate, and luxury.

Frank, when he heard th' unwelcome news,
Like a staunch hound the chace pursues,
Takes the fame route, doubles his fpeed,
Nor doubts her help in time of need.

O'er the wide wafte, through pathle's ways, The folitary pilgrim ftrays;

Now on the fwampy defart plain,

Through brakes of mangroves works with pain;
Then clim's the hills with many a groan,
And melts beneath the torrid zone.
With berries and green plaintains fed,
On the parch'd earth he leans his head;
Fainting with thirst, to heaven he cries,
But finds no stream but from his eyes.
Ah, wretch thy vain laments forbear,
And for a worse extreme prepare ;
Sudden the lowering ftorms arife,
The bursting thunder rends the kies,
Aflant the ruddy lightning flies;
Darts through the gloom a tranfient ray,
And gives a fhort, but dreadful day:
With pealing rain the woods refound,
Convulfions fhake the folid ground
Benumb'd with cold, but more with fear,
Strange phantoms to his mind appear,
The wolves around him howl for food,
The ravenous tigers hunt for blood,
And canibals more fierce than they
(Monsters who make mankind their prey)
Riot and feaft on human gore,
And, ftill infatiate, thirst for more.]
Half dead at every noife he hears,
His fancy multiplies his fears;
Whate'er he read or heard of old,
Whate'er his nurfe or Crufoe told,
Each tragic fcene his eyes behold:
Things past as prefent fear applies,
Their pains he bears, their deaths he dies.
At length the fun began to peep,
And gild the furface of the deep,
Then on the recking moisture fed,
The fcatter'd clouds before him fled,
The rivers fhrunk into their bed:
Nature revives; the feather'd throng
Salute the morning with a fong..
Frank with his fellow-brutes arofe,
Yet dreaming ftill he faw his focs,
Bb 2

}

علم

Reels,

Reels to and fro, laments and grieves,
And farting, doubt if yet he lives.
At laft his fpirits mend their pace,
And Hope fat dawning on his face;
Ev'n fuch is human life, faid he,
A night of dread and mifery,
Till Heaven relents, relieves our pain,
And fun-fline days return again.
O Fortune! who doft now beflow,
Frowning, this bitter cup of woe,
Do not thy faithful flave deftroy,
But give th' alternative of joy.
Then many a painful ftep he takes,

O'er hills and vales, through woods and brakes:
No furdy defperate buccaneer

J'er fuffered hardships more fevere.
Stubborn, incorrigibly blind,
No dangers can divert his mind;
His tedious journey he pursues,
At laft his eye tranfported views
Fair Portobel, whofe rifing fpires
Inflame his heart with new defires.
Secure of Fortune's grace, he fmiles,
And flattering Hope the wretch beguiles.
Though nature calls for fleep and food,
Yet ftronger avarice fubdued;
Ev'n fhameful nakedness and pain,
And thirst and hunger, plead in vain :
No rest he gives his weary feet,
Fortune he feeks from freet to street;
Careful in every corner pries,

Now here, new there, impatient flies,
Whereever bufy crowds refort,

The change, the market, and the port;
In vain he turns his eye-balls round,
Fortune was no where to be found;
The jilt, not many hours before,
With the Plate-fleet had left the fhore:
Laughs at the credulous fool behind,
And joyful fuds before the wind.
Poor Frank forfaken on the coaft,
All his fond hopes at once are loft.
Aghaft the fwelling fails he views,
And with his eye the fleet puríues,
Till, leffen'd to his wearied fight,
It leaves him to defpair and night.
So when the faithlefs Thefeus fled
The Cretan nymphs deferted bed,
Awak'd, at diftance on the main,
She view'd the profperous perjur'd fwain,
And call'd th' avenging Gods in vain.
Profirate on earth till break of day,"
Senfelefs and motionless he lay,
Till tears at laf! find out their way;
Gufh like a torrent from his eyes,
In bitternels of foul he cries,
"C, Fortune! now too late I fee,
"Too late, alas! thy treachery.

Wretch that I am, abandon'd, loft,
"About the world at random tofs'd,
"Whither, oh whither fhall I run?
"Sore pinch'd with hunger, and undone.
"In the dark mines go hide thy head
"Accurs'd, exchange thy fweat for bread,
"Skulk under ground, in earth's dark womb
"Go ilave, and dig thyfelf a tomb:

"There's gold enough; pernicious gold! "To which long fince thy peace was fold; "Vain helplefs idol! canft thou fave "This fhatter'd carcafe from the grave? Retlefs difturber of mankind, "Canft thou give health, or peace of mind? "Ah no, deceiv'd the fool fhall be "Who puts his confidence in thee.

Fatally blind, my native home "I left, in this rude world to roam; O, brother! fhall I view no more Thy peaceful bowers? fair Albion's fhore? "Yes (if kind heaven my life shall spare) "Some happy moments yet I 'il fhare, "In thy delightful bleft retreat,

"With thee contemn the rich and great;
"Redeem my time mifpent, and wait
"Till death relieve th' unfortunate."
Adverfity, fage useful guest,
Severe inftructor, but the beft;
It is from thee alone we know
Juftly to value things below;
Right reafon's ever faithful friend,
To thee our haughty paffions bend;
Tam'd by thy rod, poor Frank at laft
Repents of all his follics paft;
Refign'd, and patient to er dure

Thofe ills, which heaven alone can cure.
With vain purfuits and labours worn,
He meditates a quick return,
Longs to revifit yet once more,
Poor prodigal! his native fhore.
In the next ship for Britain bound,
Glad Frank a ready paffage found;
Nor veffel now, nor freight his own,
He fears no longer Fortune's frown ;
No property but life his hare,
Life a frail good not worth his care
Active and willing to obey,

A merry mariner and gay,

He hands the fails, and jokes all day, At night no dreams difturb his reft, No pallions riot in his breaft; For, having nothing left to lofe, Sweet and unbroken his repofe : And now fair Albion's cliffs are feen, And hills with fruitful herbage green: His heart beats quick, the joy that ties His faltering tongue, burfts from his eyes. At length, thus hail'd the well-known land And kneeling kifs'd the happy ftraud. "And do I then draw native air, "After an age of toil and care? "O welcome parent ifle, no more "The vagrant fhall defert thy fhore, "But, flying to thy kind embrace,' "Here end this life's laborious race." So when the ftag intent to rove, Quits the fafe park and fheltering grove, Tops the high pale, ftrolls unconfin'd, And leaves the lazy herd behind, Bleft in his happy change a while, Corn fields and flowery meadows fmile, The pamper'd beaft enjoys the fpoil;

Till on the next returning morn,
Alarm'd, he hears the fatal horn;

Before the ftaunch, blood-thirfty hounds
Panting, o'er hills unknown he bounds,
With clamour every wood refounds:
He creeps the thorny brakes with pain,
He fecks the diftant stream in vain,
And now, by fad experience wife,
To his dear home the rambler flies;
His old inclofure gains once more,
And joins the herd he fcorn'd before.
Nor are his labours finifl'd yet,
Hunger and thirft, and pain and fweat,
And many a tedious mile remains.
Before his brother's houfe he gains.
Without one doit his purfe to blefs,
Nor very elegant his dref;
With a tarr'd jump, a crooked bat,
Scarce one whole fhoe, and half a hat;
From door to door the ftroller skip'd,
Sometimes reliev'd, but oftener whipp'd;
Sun-burnt and ragged, on he fares,
At last the manfion-houfe appears,
Timely relief for all his cares.
Around he gaz'd, his greedy fight
Devours each object with delight;

Through each known haunt transported roves,
Gay fmiling fields, and fhady groves,
Once conscious of his youthful loves.
About the hofpitable gate,
Crowds of dejected wretches wait;
Each day kind Bob's diffutive hand,
Chear'd and refresh'd the tatter'd band,
Proud the moit god-like joy to fhare,
He fed the hungry, cloath'd the oare.
Trank amongst thefe his ftation chofe,
With looks revealing inward woes;
When, lo! with wonder and furprize,
He Lw dame Fortune in difguife;
He faw, but fcarce believ'd his eyes.
Her fawning fmiles, her tricking air,
Th' egregious hypocrite declare;
A gypfy's mantle round her fpread,
Of various dye, white, yellow, red;
Strange feats the promis'd, clamour'd loud,
And with her cant amus'd the crowd:
There

every day impatient ply'd, Puh'd to get in, but still deny'd; For Bob, who knew the fubtle whore, Thruft the falfe vagrant from his door. But, when the stranger's face he view'd, With no deceitful tears bedew'd, His hoding heart began to melt, And more than ufual pity felt: He trac'd his features o'er and o'er, That fpoke him better born, though poor, Though cloath'd in rags, genteel his mien, That face he fomewhere must have seen: Nature at laft reveals the truth, He knows, and owns the haplefs youth. Surpriz d, and fpeechlefs, both embrace, And mingling tears o'erflow each face; Till Bob thus eas'd his labouring thought, And the antructive moral taught. Welcome, my brother, to my longing arms, Here on my bolom reft fecure from harms;

See Fortune there, that falle delufive jade,
To whom thy prayers and ardent vows were paid:
She like her fex) the fond puriuer flies;
But flight the jilt, and at thy feet the dies.
Now fafe in port, indulge thyfelf on fhore,
Oh, tempt the faithlefs winds and feas no more;
Let unavailing toils, and dangers past,
Though late, this ufeful leffon teach at laft,
True happiness is only to be found
In a contented mind, a body found,
All elfe is dream, a dance on fairy ground:
While reftlef's fools each idle whim pursue,
And still one with obtain'd creates a new,
Like froward babes, the toys they have, deteft,
While ftill the newest title pleases beft:
Let us. my brother, rich in wifdom's ftore,
What Heaven has lent, enjoy, nor covet more;
Subdue our paflions, curb their fancy rage,
And to ourselves reftore the golden age.

A

THE DEVIL OUTWITTED:
A TALE.

VICAR liv'd on this fide Trent,
Religious, learn'd, benevolent,
Pure was his life, in deed, word, thought,
A comment on the truths he taught:
His parith large, his income fniali,
Yet feldom wanted wherewithal;
For against every merry tide
Madam would carefully provide.
A painful paftor; but his sheep
Alas! within no bounds would keep;
A feabby flock, that every day
Run riot, and would go aftray.
He thump'd his cuthion, fretted, vext,
Thump do'er again each useful text;
Rebak d, exhorted, all in vain,
His parifh was the more profane:
The fcrubs would have their wicked will,
And cunting Satan triumph'd ftill.
At laft, when each expedient fail'd,
And fericus meatures nought avail'd,
It cane into his head, to try
The force of wit and raillery.
The good man was by nature gay,
Cond gibe and joke, as well as pray;
Not like fome nide-bound folk, who chace
Each metry imile from their dull face,
And think pride zeai, li-nature grace.
t christenings and cach jovial feast,
He ingled out the inful beaft :
Let al his pointed arrows By
Told this and that, look'a very fly,
And left my alters to app'y.
His tales were humourous, often true,

And now and then fut off to view
With lucky fictions and iheer wit,

That pierc'd, where truth could never hit.
The laugh was always on his fide,
While pallive fools by turns deride;
And, gigling thus at one another,
Each jeering lout reform'd his brother;

Till