He saw, he lov'd; for yet he ne'er had known
Sweet innocence and beauty meet in one.
Ah! Mulciber! recall thy nuptial vows,
Think on the graces of thy Paphian spouse;
Think how her eyes dart inexhausted charms,
And canst thou leave her bed for Patty's arms?
The Lemnian Power forsakes the realms above,
His bosom glowing with terrestrial love.
Far in the lane a lonely hut he found,
No tenant ventur'd on the unwholesome ground.
Here smokes his forge, he bares his sinewy arm,
And early strokes the sounding anvil warm:
Around his shop the steely sparkles flew,
As for the steed he shap'd the bending shoe.
When blue-ey'd Patty near his window came,
His anvil rests, his forge forgets to flame:
To hear his soothing tales she feigns delays;
What woman can resist the force of praise?
At first she coyly every kiss withstood,
And all her cheek was flush'd with modest blood;
With headless nails he now surrounds her shoes,
To save her steps from rains and piercing dews.
She lik'd his soothing tales, his presents wore, 265
And granted kisses, but would grant no more.
Yet winter chill'd her feet, with cold she pines,
And on her cheek the fading rose declines;
No more her humid eyes their lustre boast,
And in hoarse sounds her melting voice is lost.
This Vulcan saw, and in his heavenly thought
A new machine mechanic fancy wrought,
Above the mire her shelter'd steps to raise, And bear her safely through the wintry ways. Straight the new engine on his anvil glows, And the pale virgin on the patten rose.
No more her lungs are shook with dropping rheums,
And on her cheek reviving beauty blooms.
The god obtain❜d his suit: though flattery fail,
Presents with female virtue must prevail.
The patten now supports each frugal dame,
Which from the blue-ey'd Patty takes the name.
ON WALKING THE STREETS BY DAY.
THUS far the Muse has trac'd, in useful lays,
The proper implements for wintry ways;
Has taught the walker with judicious eyes
To read the various warnings of the skies:
Now venture, Muse! from home to range the
Town,
And for the public safety risk thy own.
For ease and for despatch the morning's best;
No tides of passengers the street molest:
You'll see a draggled damsel here and there,
From Billingsgate her fishy traffic bear:
On doors the sallow milkmaid chalks her gains;
Ah! how unlike the milkmaid of the plains!
Before proud gates attending asses bray,
Or arrogate with solemn pace the way;
These grave physicians, with their milky cheer, 15
The love-sick maid and dwindling beau repair.
Here rows of drummers stand in martial file,
And with their vellum thunder shake the pile,
To greet the new-made bride: are sounds like
The proper prelude to a state of peace?
Now Industry awakes her busy sons;
Full charg❜d with news the breathless hawker runs: Shops open, coaches roll, carts shake the ground, And all the streets with passing cries resound.
If cloth'd in black you tread the busy Town, 25 Or if distinguish'd by the reverend gown, Three trades avoid. Oft in the mingling press The barber's apron soils the sable dress : Shun the perfumer's touch with cautious eye; Nor let the baker's step advance too nigh. Ye walkers, too, that youthful colours wear, Three sullying trades avoid with equal care. The little chimney-sweeper skulks along, And marks with sooty stains the heedless throng: When small-coal murmurs in the hoarser throat, 35 From smutty dangers guard thy threaten'd coat; The dust-man's cart offends thy clothes and eyes, When through the street a cloud of ashes flies: But whether black or lighter dyes are worn, The chandler's basket, on his shoulder borne, With tallow spots thy coat: resign the way, To shun the surly butcher's greasy tray; [stain, Butchers! whose hands are dy'd with blood's foul And always foremost in the hangman's train.
Let due civilities be strictly paid;
The wall surrender to the hooded maid;
Nor let thy sturdy elbow's hasty rage
Jostle the feeble steps of trembling age:
And when the porter bends beneath his load,
And pants for breath, clear thou the crowded road:
But, above all, the groping blind direct,
And from the pressing throng the lame protect.
You'll sometimes meet a fop, of nicest tread,
Whose mantling peruke veils his empty head:
At every step he dreads the wall to lose,
And risks, to save a coach, his red-heel'd shoes;
Him, like the miller, pass with caution by,
Lest from his shoulder clouds of powder fly:
But when the bully, with assuming pace, [lace,
Cocks his broad hat, edg'd round with tarnish'd
Yield not the way; defy his strutting pride,
And thrust him to the muddy kennel's side:
He never turns again, nor dares oppose,
But mutters coward curses as he goes.
If drawn by business to a street unknown, Let the sworn porter point thee through the Town. Be sure observe the signs, for signs remain Like faithful landmarks to the walking train. Seek not from 'prentices to learn the way; Those fabling boys will turn thy steps astray: Ask the grave tradesman to direct thee right; He ne'er deceives but when he profits by 't.
Where fam'd St. Giles's ancient limits spread, An inrail'd column rears its lofty head;
Here to sev'n streets sev'n dials count the day, 75
And from each other catch the circling ray:
Here oft the peasant, with inquiring face,
Bewilder'd, trudges on from place to place;
He dwells on every sign with stupid gaze,
Enters the narrow alley's doubtful maze;
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