Imatges de pÓgina

This aged, fickly, laplefs Thorn

Which must alas no langer stand; Behold! the cruel Dean in Scorn

Cuts down with facrilegious Hand,

Dame Nature, when the saw the Blow,

gave a dreadful Shriek; And Mother Tellus trembled fo

She scarce recover'd in a Week.

The Silvan Pow'rs with Fear perplex'd,

In Prudence and Compassion fent (For none could tell whose Turp was next)

Sad Omens of the dire Eyens.

The Magpye, lighting on the Stock,

Stood chatt'ring with incessant Din; And with her Beak

gave many a Knock To rouze and warn

warn the Nymph within,

The Owl forefaw in pensive Mood,

The Ruin of her antient Şeat;
And Aed in Hafte with all her Brood,

To seek a more secure Retreat.


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Lait 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 every Tree;

(If all be true that Poters chant) Condemn'd by Fate's fupreme Decree,

Muft die with her expiring Plant.

Thus, when the gentle śpina found

The Thorn committed to her Care; Receive its last and deadly Wound,

She fled and vanilh'd into Air.

But from the Root a dismal Groan

First issuing, struck the Murd'rer’s Éars; And in a shrill revengeful Tone,

This Prophecy he trembling hears.

“ Thou chlef Contriver of my Fall,

« Relentless Dein! to Mischief born, " My Kindred oft' thine Hide shall gall;

* Thy Gown and Cassock oft be torn.

" And

« And thy confed'rate Dame, who brags

6 That The condemnd me to the Fire, * Shall rent her Petticoats to Rags,

“ And wound her Legs with ev'ry Bry'r.

* Nor thou, Lord * Arthur, shalt escape :

“ To thee I often call'd in vain,
Against that Affaflin in Crape,
“ Yer thou could'st tamely fee me slain.

« Nor, when I felt the dreadful Blow,

" Or chid the Dean, or pinch'd thy Spouse: « Since you could see me treated so,

• An old Retainer to your House.

6 May that fell Dean, by whose Command

6 Was form'd this Macbi'villian Plot, 4 Not leave a Thistle on thy Land;

" Then who will own thee for a Scot!

« Pigs and Fanaticks, Cows, and Teagues

“ Through all thy Empire I foresee, " To tear thy Hedges join in Leagues,

“ Sworn to revenge my Thorn and me.

66 And

Sir Arthur Acheroni

And thou the Wretch ordain'd by Fate,

· Neal Gaghagan, Hibernian Clown, " With Hatcher blurter than thy Pate,

“ To hack rhiy hallow'd Timber down;

“When thou, suspended high in Air,

“ Dy'st on a more ignoble Tree,
(For chou shalt steal thy Landlord's Mare)
« Then bloody Caitif think on me.

JOAN cudgels N ED.

Written in the Year 1723:

Will cudgels Bess, yet Will's a Cully.
Dye Ned and Bess ; give Will to Joan,
She dares not say, her Life's her own.
Dye Joàn and Will; give Bess to Ned,
And ev'ry Day she combs bis Head.

* O

This Poem was printed some Years ago, and it should

seem by the late Failure of two Bankers to be Somewhat prophetick, it was therefore thought fit to be reprinted.

The Run upon the Bankers.

Written in the Year 1720.


HE bold Encroachers on the Deep,

Gain by Degrees huge Tracts of Land,
Till Neptune with one gen’ral Sweep,
Turns all again to barren Strand,

The Multitude's capricious Pranks

Are said to represent the Seas ;
Breaking the Bankers and the Banks,
Resume their own whene'er they please.


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