Then, furious he begins his March;

Drives rattling o'er a brazen Arch:
With Squibs and Crackers arm'd, to throw
Among the trembling Croud below.

All ran to Pray'rs, both Priefts and Laity,
To pacify this angry Deity;

When Jove, in Pity to the Town,
With real Thunder knock't him down.
Then what a huge Delight were all in,
To fee the wicked Varlet sprawling;
They fearch't his Pockets on the Place,
And found his Copper all was base;
They laught at fuch an Irib Blunder,
To take the Noife of Brafs for Thunder!

THE Moral of this Tale is proper,
Apply'd to Wood's adult'rate Copper;
Which, as he scatter'd, we like Dolts,
Miftook at firft for Thunder-Bolts;
Before the Drapier fhot a Letter,
(Nor Jove himself could do it better)
Which lighting on th' Impoftor's Crown,
Like real Thunder knock't him down.

WOOD

B

WOOD, an Infect.

Written in the Year 1725.

Y long Obfervation I have understood,
That three little Vermin are kin to Will.
Wood!

The first is an Infect they call a Wood-Loufe,
That folds up itself in itself for a House:
As round as a Ball, without Head without Tail,
Inclos'd Cap-a-pee in a ftrong Coat of Mail.
And thus William Wood to my Fancy appears
In Fillets of Brafs roll'd up to his Ears:
And, over these Fillets he wifely has thrown,
To keep out of Danger, * a Doublet of Stone.

THE Loufe of the Wood for a Med'cine it us'd,
Or swallow'd alive, or skilfully bruis'd.
And, let but our Mother Hibernia contrive
To fwallow Will. Wood either bruis'd or alive.

*He was in Fayl for Debt.

She

She need be no more with the Jaundice possess't, Or fick of Obstructions, and Pains in her Cheft.

THE Third is an Infect we call a Wood-Worm, That lies in old Wood like a Hare in her Form; With Teeth or with Claws it will bite or will

scratch,

And Chambermaids christen this Worm a DeathWatch:

Because like a Watch it always cries Click:

Then Woe be to thofe in the House who are fick: For, as fure as a Gun they will give up the Ghost If the Maggot cries Click when it scratches the

Poft.

But a Kettle of scalding hot Water injected,

Infallibly cures the Timber affected;

The Omen is broke, the Danger is over;

The Maggot will dye, and the Sick will recover.

Such a Worm was Will. Wood when he fcratcht at

the Door

Of a governing Statesman, or favorite Whore : The Death of our Nation it seem'd to foretell, And the Sound of his Brafs we took for our Knell,

But

But now, fince the Drapier hath heartilly maul'd

I

him,

think the best Thing we can do is to fcald him." For which Operation there's nothing more proper Than the Liquor he deals in, his own melted Cop

per;

Unless, like the Dutch, you rather would boyl This Coyner of * Raps in a Cauldron of Oyl. Then chufe which you please, and let each bring a

Faggot,

For our Fear's at an End with the Death of the Maggot.

ADVICE to the Grub-street Verfe-Writers.

Written in the Year 1726.

E Poets ragged and forlorn,

YE

Down from your Garrets hafte,

Ye Rhimers, dead as foon as born,
Not yet confign'd to Paste ;

* A cant Word in Ireland for a counterfeit Half-penny.

I KNOW

I KNOW a Trick to make you thrive;

O, 'tis a quaint Device:

Your ftill-born Poems fhall revive,
And scorn to wrap up Spice.

GET all your Verfes printed fair,
Then, let them well be dry'd;

And, Curl must have a special Care
To leave the Margin wide.

LEND thefe to Paper-fparing Pope;
And, when he fits to write,

No Letter with an Envelope
Could give him more Delight.

WHEN Pope has fill'd the Margins round,

Why, then recal your Loan; Sell them to Curl for Fifty Pound, And fwear they are your own.

Defire,