An hook in an old wall he fpies,
To that the fatal rope he ties :
Lik Curtius now, at one bold leap,
He plunged into the gaping deep;
Nor did he doubt in hell to find,
Dealings more juft, and friends more kind.
As he began to twift and fprawl,

The looten'd ftones break from the wall;
Down drops the rake upon the fpot,
And after him an earthen pot:
Reeling he rofe, and gaz'd around,
And faw the crock hie on the ground;
Surpriz'd, amaz'd, at this odd fight,
Trembling, he broke it in a fright;
When, lo! at once came pouring forth
Ingots, and pearls, and gems of worth.
O'erjoy'd with Fortune's kind bequest,
He took the birds, but left the neft;
And then, to fpy what might enfue,
Into a neighbouring wood withdrew;
Nor waited long. For foon he fees

A tall black man fkulk through the trees;
He knew him by his fhuffling pace,

His thread bare coat and hatchet face :
And who the devil fhould it be,
But fanctify'd Sir imothy!
His uncle by his mother's fide,
His guardian, and his faithful guide.

This driveling knight, with pockets full,
And proud as any Great Mogul,
For his wife conduct had been made
Dir &tor of the jobbing trade :
And had moft piously drawn in
Poor Ned and all his nearest kin.
The greedy fools lai out their gold,
And bought the very ftock he fold;
Thus the kind knave convey'd their pelf,
By bocus pocus, to him if;
And, to fecure the fpoils he got,
Form'd this contrivance of the pot.
Here every night, and every morn,
Devout as any monk new fhorn,
The proftrate hypocrite implores
Jutt heaven to blefs his hidden flores;
But, when he faw dear mammon flown,
The plunder'd hive, the honey gone,
No jilted bu ly, no bilk'd hack,

No thief when beadles flay his back,
No lofing rook, no carted whore,
No failor when the billows roar,
With fuch a grace e'er curled and fwore.
Then, as he por'd upon the ground,
And turn'd his haggard eyes around,
The halter at his feet he fpy'd,

And is this all that's left?" he cry'd: "Am I thus paid for all my cares, 86 My lectures, repetitions, prayers? "'Tis well-there's fomething fav'd at least, "Welcome, thou faithful, friendly guest ; "If I must hang, now all is loft, "'Tis cheaper at another's coft; "To do it at my own expence, "Would be downright extravagance.” Thus comforted, without a tear,

He fix'd the noose beneath his ear,

J

A PADLOCK FOR THE MOUTH. A TALE.

ACK DIMPLE was a merry blade,

Young, amorous, witty, and well-made;
Difcreet?-Hold, fir-nay, as I live,
My friend, you 're too inquifitive:
Difcretion, all men must agree,

Is a mo fhining quality,

Which like leaf-gold makes a great show,

And thinly spread, fets-off a beau.
But, fir, to put you out of pain,
Our younker had not half a grain,
A leaky blab, rafh, faithlefs, vain,
The victories his
had won,
eyes
As foon as e'er obtain'd, were known ;
For trophies rear'd, the deed proclaim,
Spoils hung on high expofe the dame,
And love is facrific'd to fame.
Such infolence the fex alarms,
The female world is up in arms;
Th' outrageous Bacchanals combine,
And brandish'd tongues in concert join.
Unhappy youth! where wilt thou go
T' efcape fo terrible a foe?
Seek fhelter on the Lybian fhore,
Where tigers and where lions roar?
Sleep on the borders of the Nile,
And truft the wily crocodile ?
'Tis vain to fhun a woman's hate,
Heavy the blow, and fure as fate!
Phyllis appear'd among the crowd,
But not to talkative and loud,
With filence and with care fuppreft
The clowing vengeance in her breast,
Refolv'd, by ftratagem and ar*,
To make the faucy villain fmart.
The cunning baggage had prepar'd
Pomatum, of the fineft lard,

With ftrong aftringents mix'd the mess,
Alom, and vitriol, 'Q. S.

Arfenick and bole. But I want time
To turn all Quincy into rhyme,
'Twould make my diction too fublime,
Her grandame this receipt had taught,
Which Bendo from Grand Cairo brought,
An able ftyptick (as 'tis said)

To folder a crack'd maidenhead.

This

"Pomatum; what elfe fhould it be?"

But here 'tis fit my reader knows

'Twas March, when bluftering Boreas blows, Stern enemy to belles and beaux.

His lips were fore; rough, pointed, torn,
The coral briftled like a thorn,
Pleas'd with a cure fo a-propos,
Nor jealous of fo fair a foe,

The healing ointment thick he spread,
And every gaping cranny fed.
His chops begin to glow and fhoot,
He ftrove to fpeak, but, oh! was mute,
Mute as a fish, all he could ftrain,

Were fome horfe gutturals forc'd with pain.
He flamps, he raves, he fobs, he fighs,
The tears ran trickling from his eyes;
He thought but could not speak a curse,
His lips were drawn into a purse.
Madam no longer could contain,
Triumphant joy bursts out amain;

She laughs, the fcreams, the houfe is rais'd,
Through all the ftreet th' affair is blaz'd:
In fhoals now all the neighbours come,
Laugh out, and prefs into the room.
Sir Harry Taudry and his bride,
Mis Tulip deck'd in all her pride;
Wile Madam Froth, and widow Babble,
Coquettes and prudes, a mighty rabble.
So great a concourfe ne er was known
At Smithfeld, when a monfter 's fhown;
When bears dance jiggs with comely mein,
When witty Punch adorns the fcene,
Or frolic Pug plays Harlequin.
In vain he ftrives to hide his head,
In vain he creeps behind the bed,
Ferreted thence, expos'd to view,
The crowd their clamorous fhouts renew:
A thousand taunts, a thoufand jeers,
Stark dumb, the paffive creature hears.
No perjur'd villain nail'd on high,
And pelted in the pillory,

His face befmear'd, his eyes, his chops,
With rotten eggs and turnip-tops
Was c'er fo maur'd. Phylis, at last,
To pay him for offences paft,
With fneering malice in her face,

Thus fpoke, and gave the coup de grace:
"Lard! how demure, and how precife
"He looks! filence becomes the wife.
"Vile tongue! its matter to betray,
"But now the prifoner muft obey,

I've lock'd the door, and kp the key. "Learn hence, what angry woman can,

When wrong'd by that faife traitor man ;

"Who boasts our favours, foon or late, "The treacherous blab fhall feel our hate.";

W

THE WISE BUILDER:
A TALE.

ISE Socrates had built a farm,

Little, convenient, fnug, and warm,
Secur'd from rain and wind:

A gallant whisper'd in his ear,
"Shall the great Socrates live here,
"To this mean cell confin'd?"

"The furniture 's my chiefeft care,'' Reply'd the fage; " here's room to spare, "Sweet fir, for I and you;

"When this with faithful friends is fill'd, "An ampler palace I fhall build; "Till then, this cot muft do."

The true Ufe of the LOOKING-GLASS.

A TALE.

OM CAREFUL had a fon and heir,

Tract his fhape, genteel his air,

Adonis was not half so fair.

But then, alas! his daughter Jane
Was but fo-fo, a little plain.
In mam's apartment, as one day
The little romp and hoyden play,
Their faces in the glafs they view'd,
Which then upon her toikt flood;
Where, as Narciffus vain, the boy
Beheld each riting charm with joy;
With partial eyes furvey'd hinifelf,
But for his fifter, poor brown elf,
On her the felt-enamour'd chit
Was very lavish of his wit.

She bore, alas! whate'er fhe could,
But 'twas too much for flesh and blood;
What female ever had the grace

To pardon fcandal on her face?
Difconfolate away fhe flies,

And at her daddy's feet the lies;
Sighs, fobs, and groans, calls to her aid,
And tears, that readily obey'd;
Then aggravates the vile offence,
Exerting all her eloquence:
The caufe th' indulgent father heard,
And culprit fummon'd foon appear'd;
Some tokens of remorfe he fhow'd,
And promis'd largely to be good.
As both the tender father prefs'd
With equal ardour to his breath,
And failing kifs'd, Let there be peace,"
Said he; let broils and difcord ceafe:
"Each day, my chil'r n, thus employ
"The faithful mirror; you, my boy,
"Remember that no vice difgrace

"The gift of heaven, that beauteous face:
"And you, my girl take fpecial care
"Your want of beauty to repair

By virtue, which alone is fair.”

MAHOMET

A

MAHOMET ALI BEG;

Or, the FAITHFUL MINISTER OF STATE.

LONG defcent, and noble blood,
is but a vain fantastic good,
Unless with inbred virtues join'd,
An honeft, brave, and generous mind.
All that our ancestors have done,
Nations reliev'd, and battles won;
The trophies of each bloody field,
Can only then true honour yield,
When, like Argyll, we fcorn to owe,
And pay that luftre they bestow;
But, if, a mean degenerate race,
Slothful we faint, and flack our pace,
Lag in the glorious courfe of fame,
Their great atchievements we disclaim.
Some bold plebeian foon fhall rife
Stretch to the goal, and win the prize.
For, fince the forming hand of old,
Caft all mankind in the fame mold;
Since no diftinguifh'd clan is bleft
With finer porcelain than the reft;
And fince in all the ruling mind
Is of the fame celestial kind;
'Tis education fhews the way
Each latent beauty to display;
Each happy genius brings to light,
Conceal'd before in fhades of night:
So diamonds from the gloomy mine,
Taught by the workman's hand to fhine,
On Cloe's ivory bofom blaze,

Or grace the crown with brilliant rays.
Merit obfcure fhall raife its head,
Though dark obftructing clouds o'erspread;
Heroes, as yet unfung, thail fight,
For flaves oppress'd, and injur'd right;
And able statesmen prop the throne,
To Battle-Abbey-Roll unknown.

Sha Abbas, with fupreme command,
In Perfia reign'd, and bless'd the land;
A mighty prince, valiant, and wise,
Expert, with fharp difcerning eyes,
To find true virtue in difguife.
Hunting (it seems) was his delight,
His joy by day, his dream by night:
The fort of all the brave and bold,
From Nimrod, who, in days of old,
Made men as well as beafts his prey,
To mightier George, whofe milder fway
Glad happy crowds with pride obey.
In queft of his fierce favage foes,
Before the fun the monarch rofe,
The grizly lion to engage,

By baying dogs provok'd to rage;

In the clofe thicket to explore,

And push from thence the bristled boar :

Or to pursue the flying deer,

While deep-mouth'd hounds the vallies chear;
And echo from repeating hills
His heart with joy redoubled fills.
Under a rock's projecting fhade,
A fhepherd boy his feat had made,

* A record which contained the names of the chief men chat came over with the Conqueror.

Happy as Crafus on his throne,
The riches of the world his own.
Content on mortals here below,
Is all that heaven can beftow.
His crook and fcrip were by him laid,
Upon his oaten pipe he play'd;
His flocks fecurely couch d around,
And feem'd to listen to the found.
Returning from the chace one day,
The king by chance had loft his way :
Nor guards, nor nobles, now attend;
But one young lord, his bofom, friend.
Now tir'd with labour, fpent with heat,
They fought this pleafant cool retreat;
The boy leap'd active from his feat,
And with a kind obliging grace,
Offer'd the king unknown his place.
The Perfian monarch, who fo late,
Lord of the world, rul'd all in state;
On cloth of gold and tiffue trod,
Whole nations trembling at his nod;
With diamonds and with rubies crown'd,
And girt with fawning flaves around;
Behold him now his canopy

Th' impending rock, each fhrub, each tree,
That grew upon its fhaggy brow,
To their great prince obfervant bow;
Yield, as in duty bound, their aid,
And blefs him with a friendly fhade,
On the bare flint, he fits alone,

And, oh would kings this truth but own,
The fafer and the nobler throne!

But where do I digrefs? 'tis time
To check this arrogance of rhyme.
As the judicious monarch view'd

The ftripling's air, nor bold nor rude,
With native modefty fubdued;
The blush that glow'd in all its pride
Then trembled on his cheeks and dy'd.
He grew inquifitive to trace
What foul dwelt in that lovely cafe:
To every question, ferious, gay,
The youth reply'd without delay;
His anfwers for the moft part right,
And taking, if not appofite :
Unftudy'd, unaffected fenfe,
Mix'd with his native diffidence.
The king was charm'd with fuch a prize,
And ftood with wonder in his eyes;
Commits his treasure to the care

Of the young lord; bids him not spare
For coft, or pains, t' enrich his breaft
With all the learning of the Eaft.

He bow'd, obey'd, well-cloath'd, well-fed,
And with his patron's children bred;
Still every day the youth improv'd,
By all admir'd, by all belov'd.

Now the firft curling down began.
To give the promise of a man;

To court he 's call'd, employ'd, and train'd,
In lower posts, yet still he gain'd
By candour, courtefy, and skill,
The fubjects love, the king's good-will,
Employd in greater matters now,
No flatteries, no bribes, could bow

His flubborn foul; true to his trust,
Firm, and inexorably juft,
In judgment ripe, he foon became
A Walpole, or a Walingham;
And, wakeful for the public peace,
No dragon guards the golden fleece
With half that vigilance and care.
His bufy eyes kenn'd every where ;
In each dark scheme knew how to dive,
Though cunning Dervifes contrive
Their plots, difguis'd with fhams and lies,
And cloak'd with real perjuries.
Now high in rank the peer is plac'd,
And Ali Beg with titles grac'd;

No bounds his mafter's bounties know,
His fwelling coffers overflow,
And he is puzzled to bestow;
Perplex'd and fludious to contrive

To whom, and how, not what to give;
His pious frauds conceal the name,
And fkreen the modest man from shame.
Who e'er would heavenly treasures raise,
Muft grant the boon, efcape the praife.
But his immenfc and endlefs gain
No private charities could drain:
On public works he fix'd his mind,
The zealous friend of human kind.
Convenient inns on cach great road
At his own proper cofts endow'd,
To weary caravans afford

Refreshment, both at bed and board.
From hames, the Tiber, and the Rhine,
Nations remote with Ali dine:

In various tongues his bounty's bleft,
While with furprize the ftranger gueft
Does here on unbought dainties feaft:
See ftately palaces arife,

And gilded domes invade the skies.
Say, Mufe, what lords inhabit here?
Nor favourite eunuch, prince, nor peer?
The poor, the lame, the blind, the fick,
The ideot, and the lunatick.
He curb'd each river's fwelling pride,
O'er the reluctant murmuring tide
From bank to bank his bridges ftride.
A thousand gracious deeds were done,
Bury'd in filence and unknown.

At length worn out with years and care,
Sha Abbas dy'd; left his young heir
Sha Sefi, unexperienc'd, raw,
By his ftern father kept in awe ;
To the feraglio's walls confin'd,

Barr'd from the converfe of mankind.
Strange jealoufy! a certain rule,
To breed a tyrant and a fool.
Still Ali was prime minifter,
But had not much his mafter's ear;
Walk'd on unfaithful, flippery ground,
Till an occafion could be found
To pick a quarrel; then, no doubt,

As is the mode at court--turn out.
Sha Sefi, among cunnchs bred,
With them convers'd, by them was led;
Beardiefs, half-men in whofe falfe breafts,
Nor joy, nor love, nor friendship, refts.

There fpight and pining envy dwell,
And rage as in their native hell;
For, confcious of their own difgrace
Each excellence they would debafe,
And vent their spleen on human race.
This li found. Strange fenfelefs lies
And inconfiftent calumnies

They buz into the monarch's ears,
And he believes all that he hears.

"Great prince," said they," Ali, your slave-
"Whom we acknowledge wife and brave-
"Yet pardon us-we can't but fee
"His boundlefs pride and vanity:
"His bridges triumph o'er each tide,
"In their own channels taught to glide.
"Each beggar, and each lazy drone,
"His fubject, more than yours, is grown:
"And for a palace leaves his cell,
"Where Xerxes might be proud to dwell.
"His inns for travellers provide,

Strangers are lifted on his fide:

"In his own house how grand the scene!
"Tiffues and velvets are too mean,
"Gold, jewels, pearls, unheard expence !
"Sufpected, bold, magnificence!

"Whence can this flood of riches flow?
"Examine his accounts, you'll know :
"Your eye on your exchequer cast,
"The fecret will come out at last."

Ali next morn (for 'twas his way To rife before the dawn of day) Went early to the council-board, Proftrate on earth, his king ador'd. The king, with countenance fevere, Look'd sternly on his minifter: "Ali," faid he, "I have been told, "Great treasures, both in gems and gold, "Were left, and trufted to your care; "'Mong thefe, one gem exceeding rate, "I long to view; which was (they said) A prefent from the fultan made, "The fineft that the world e'er faw, "White, large, and fair, without a flaw." Th' unblemith'd Ali thus reply'd, "Great fir, it cannot be deny'd, ""Tis brilliant, beautiful, and clear, "The Great Mogul has not its peer. Please it your majefty, to go Into the treasury below, "You'll wonder at its piercing ray, "The fun gives not a nobler day." Together now they all defcend; Poor Ali had no other friend, But a foul faithful to its truft, The fure afylum of the just.

In

proper claffes now are seen

The diamonds bright, and emeralds green;
Pearls, rubies, fapphires, next appear,
Difpos'd in rows with niceft care.
The king views all with curious eyes,
Applauds with wonder and furprize,
Their order and peculiar grace,
Each thing adapted to its place;
The reft with envious leer behold,
And ftumble upon bars of gold.

Next

Next, in an amber box, is shown The nobleft jewel of the crown: "This, fir," faid he, " believe your slave, "Is the fine gem the fultan gave; "Around it darts its beams of light, "No comet e'er was half fo bright." The king with joy the gem admires, Well-pleas'd, and half-convinc'd, retires. "Ali," faid he, " with you I dine; "Your furniture, I'm told, is fine." Wife Ali, for this favour show'd, Humbly with lowest reverence bow'd. At Ali's houfe now every hand Is bufy at their lord's command; Where at th' appointed hour resort The king and all his fplendid court. Ali came forth his prince to meet, And, lowly bowing, kifs'd his feet. On all his compliments bestows, Civil alike to friends and foes. The king, impatient to behold His furniture of gems and gold, From room to room the chace pursu'd, With curious eyes each corner view'd, Ranfack'd th' apartments o'er and o'er, Each closet search'd, unlock'd each door; But all he found was plain and coarse, The meanest Persian scarce had worse; Thefe Ali for convenience bought, Nor for expenfive trifles fought. One door a prying eunuch spy'd, With bars and locks well fortify'd, And now, fecure to find the prize, Shew'd it the king with joyful eyes.

Ali," faid he, "that citadel,

"Is ftrong, and baricadoed well?

"What have you there?" Ali reply'd,

66

Oh, fir, there's lodg'd my greateft pride;

"There are the gems I value most,

46 And all the treasures I can boast."
All now convinc'd of his difgrace,
Triumph appear'd in every face.
The monarch doubted now no more;
The keys are brought, unlock'd the door,
When, lo! upon the wall appear
His thepherd's weeds hung up with care,
Nor crook nor fcrip was wanting there;
Nor pipe that tun'd his humble lays,
Sweet folace of his better days!
Then, bowing low, he touch'd his breast,
And thus the wondering king addreft :
"Great Prince! your Ali is your flave,
"To you belong whate'er I have;

"And black-ey'd nymphs attend his nod, "Fair daughters of that bleft abode: "By his command, I left the plain, "An humble, but contented fwain. "Nor fought I wealth, nor power, nor place; "All these were owing to his grace`; ""Twas his mere bounty made me great, "And fix'd me here, in this high feat, "The mark of envy. Much he gave, "But yet of nought depriv'd his flave: "He touch'd not thefe. Alas! whofe fpite, "Whofe avarice, would these excite? "My old, hereditary right!

}

"Grant me but thefe, Great Prince, once more, "Grant me the pleasure to be poor,

"This fcrip, these homely weeds, I'll wear,
"The bleating flocks fhall be my care;
"Th' employ that did my youth engage,
"Shall be the comfort of my age."

The king, amaz'd at fuch a fcorn
Of riches, in a fhepherd born;
"How foars that foul," faid he, " above
"The courtier's hate, or monarch's love!
"No power fuch virtue can effice,
"No jealous malice fhall difgrace.

"Wealth, grandeur, pomp, are a mere cheat,
"But this is to be truly great."
While tears ran trickling down his face,
He clafp'd him in a clofe embrace;
Then caus'd himfelf to be undreft,
And cloath'd him in his royal vest:
The greateft honour he could give,
Or Perfian fubjects can receive.

"For fpeak the word, and I am dead: "These moveables, and thefe alone, "I may with juftice call my own. "Your royal fire, Abbas the Great, "Whom nations proftrate at his feet "On earth ador'd; whofe foul at reit, "In paradife a welcome guest, "Enjoys its full, and fragrant bowers, "Or wantons upon beds of flowers," "While the pure ftream, in living rills, "From rocks of adamant diftils,

Such is the Paradife the Turks expect. VOL. V.

The foul a defert wafte remains,

And ghaftly defolation reigns.

But where will thefe grave morals tend?
Pardon my zeal, dear courteous friend;
The province of my humbler vein,
Is not to preach, but entertain.

Gripe, from the cradle to the grave,
Was good for nothing, but to fave;
Mammon his God, to him alone

He bow'd, and his fhort creed was known: On his thumb-nail it might be wrote, fav'd's a penny got.”

A penny D d