« AnteriorContinua »
Clever TOM CLINCH going to be
Written in the Year 1727.
AS clever Tom Clinch, while the rabble
was bawling, Rode ftately through Holbourn to die in
his calling; He stopt at The George for a bottle of fack, And promis’d to pay for it when he came
back His waistcoat and stockings, and breeches
were white; His cap had a new cherry ribband to tye't. The maids to the doors and the balconies
And said, Lack-a.day! he's a proper young
But, as from thewindowsthe ladies he spy'd, Like a beau in the box, he bow'd low on
each side; And, when his last speech the loud hawkers
He swore from his cart, it was all a damn'd lye.
The hangman for pardon fell down on his
his place, He lengthen’d my life with a whole year
Take courage, dear comrades, and be not
afraid, Nor slip this occasion to follow your trade; My conscience is clear, and my spirits are
calm, And thus I go off without pray’r-book
* A cant word for con- under-keeper of Newgate, fofling at the gallows. who was hanged for receiving
+ Thenoted thief-catcher, stolen goods.
On cutting down the old THORN at
MA RK ET-HILL*.
Written in the Year 3727.
T Market-bill, as well appears
By chronicle of ancient date,
years A spacious thorn before the gate.
Hither came ev'ry village-maid,
And on the boughs her garland hung,
Secure from satyrs fat and sung.
Then lord of all the fruitful plain,
For he was fond of rural strain.
(Sir Archibald, whose fav’rite name
Shail stand for ages on record,
I Wise Hawthornden and Stirling’slord).
* A village near the seat of I Drummond of HawthornSir Arthur Acheson, where the des, and Sir William Alexander dean sometimes made a long earl of Sterling, who were both visit.
friends to Sir Archibald, and - + Sir Archibald Acheson, se- famous for their poctry. cretary of state for Scotland,
But time with iron teeth I ween,
Haş canker'd all its branches round; No fruit or blossom to be seen,
Its head reclining tow'rds the groupd. This aged, fickly, sapless thorn,
Which must alas no longer stand, Behold the cruel dean in scorn
Cuts down with facrilegious hand. Dame Nature, when she saw the blow,
Astonish'd gave a dreadful shriek ;
She scarce recover'd in a week.
In prudence and compassion sent (For none could tell whose turn was next)
Sad omens of the dire event,
Stood chatt'ring with incessant din; And with her beak gave many a knock,
To rouže and warn the nymph within, The owl foresaw, in pensive mood,
The ruin of her ancient feat; And Aed in hafte with all her brood To seek a more secure retreat,
Laft trotted forth the gentle swine,
To ease her itch against the stump, And dismally was heard to whine,
All as the scrubb’d her meazly rump. The nymph, who dwells in ev'ry tree
(If all be true that poets chant), Condemn’d by fate's supreme decree,
Must die with her expiring plant. Thus when the gentle Spina found
The thorn committed to her care, Receiv'd its last and deadly wound,
She fled and vanish'd into air. But from the root a dismal groan
First issuing struck the murd'rer's ears ; And in a fhrill revengeful tone
This prophecy he trembling hears. “ Thou chief contriver of my fall,
“ Relentless dean, to mischief born; '? My kindred oft thine hide fhall gall,
Thy gown and caffock oft be torn. “ And thy confed’rate dame, who brags
« That the condemn'd me to the fire, Shall rent her petticoats to rags,
And wound her legs with ev'ry briar.