Imatges de pàgina
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Upon the Water caft thy Bread,
And after many Days thou'lt find it ;
But Gold upon this Ocean spread,

Shall fink, and leave no Mark behind it.

There is a Gulph where Thousands fell,
Here all the bold Advent'rers came,
A narrow Sound, though deep as Hell;
'Change-Alley is the dreadful Name.

Nine Times a Day it ebbs and flows,
Yet he that on the Surface lies,
Without a Pilot feldom knows

The Time it falls, or when 'twill rife.

Subfcribers here by Thousands float;

And joftle one another down;

Each padling in his leaky Boat,

And here they fish for Gold, and drown.

* Now bury'd in the Depth below,
Now mounted up to Heaven agen,

They reel and ftagger to and fro,
At their Wits End, like drunken Men.

Mean

* Pfalm cvii.

Mean time, fecure on † Garr'way Cliffs,
A Savage Race by Shipwrecks fed,
Lie waiting for the founder'd Skiffs,
And strip the Bodies of the Dead,

But thefe, you say, are factious Lyes,
From fome malicious Tory's Brain;
For, where Directors

get a Prize,

The Swifs and Dutch whole Millions drain.

Thus, when by Rooks a Lord is ply'd,

Some Cully often wins a Bet,

By vent'ring on the cheating Side,
Tho' not into the Secret let.

While fome build Caftles in the Air,
Directors build 'em in the Seas;

Subfcribers plainly fee 'em there,
For Fools will fee as wife Men please,

Thus oft by Mariners are shown,

(Unless the Men of Kent be Lyars,) Earl Godwin's Caftles overflown, And Palace-Roofs, and Steeple-Spires.

+ Coffee House in 'Change-Alley.

Mark

Mark where the fly Directors creep,

Nor to the Shore approach too nigh!
The Monsters neftle in the Deep,
To feize you in your paffing by.

Then, like the Dogs of Nile, be wise,
Who taught by Instinct how to shun
The Crocodile, that lurking lies,

Run as they drink, and drink and run.

Antaus could, by Magick Charms,
Recover Strength whene'er he fell;
Alcides held him in his Arms,

And fent him up in Air to Hell.

Directors thrown into the Sea,
Recover Strength and Vigour there;

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Directors! for 'tis you I warn,

By long Experience we have found

What Planet rul'd when you were born;
We fee you never can be drown'd.

Beware,

Beware, nor over-bulky grow,

Nor come within your Cully's Reach;
For if the Sea fhou'd fink fo low,
To leave you dry upon the Beach;

You'll owe your Ruin to your Bulk:
Your Foes already waiting stand,
To tear you like a founder'd Hulk,
While you lie helpless on the Sand.

Thus when a Whale hath loft the Tide,
The Coafters crowd to feize the Spoil;
The Monster into Parts divide,

And strip the Bones, and melt the Oil.

Oh! may fome Western Tempeft fweep
Thefe Locusts whom our Fruits have fed,
That Plague, Directors, to the Deep,.
Driv'n from the South-Sea to the Red.

May He, whom Nature's Laws obey;
Who lifts the Poor, and finks the Proud,
Quiet the Raging of the Sea,

And fill the Madness of the Crowd.

But

But never shall our Ifle have Rest,
Till thofe devouring Swine run down,
(The Devil's leaving the Poffeft,)

And beadlong in the Waters drown:

The Nation then too late will find,
Computing all their Coft and Trouble;
Directors Promifes but Wind,

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