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Where Lincoln wide extends her fenny foil,
A goodly yeoman liv'd, grown white with toil;
One only daughter, bleft his nuptial bed,
Who from her infant hand the poultry fed :
Martha (her careful mother's name) she bore,
But now her careful mother was no more.
Whilft on her father's knee the damfel play'd,
Patty he fondly call'd the fmiling maid;
As years increas'd, her ruddy beauty grew,
And Patty's fame o'er all the village flew.

Soon as the grey-eye'd morning ftreaks the skies,
And in the doubtful day the woodcock flies,
Her cleanly pail the pretty houfwife bears,
And finging to the diftant field repairs ;

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And, when the plains with evening-dews are spread,
The milky burthen fmoaks upon her head,
Deep through a miry lane fhe pick'd her
Above her ancle rofe the chalky clay.

way,

Vulcan by chance the bloomy maiden fpies,
With innocence and beauty in her eyes :
He faw, 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 canft thou leave her bed for Patty's arms?
The Lemnian Power forfakes the realms above,
His bofom glowing with terreftrial love:

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Far in the lane a lonely hut he found;

No tenant ventur'd on th' unwholesome ground.

Here

Here fmoaks his forge, he bares his finewy arm,
And early strokes the founding anvil warm:
Around his fhop the fteely fparkles flew,
As for the steed he fhap'd the bending fhoe.
When blue-eye'd Patty near his window came,
His anvil rests, his forge forgets to flame.
To hear his foothing tales, fhe feigns delays;
What woman can refift the force of praise?

At first the coyly every kifs withstood,
And all her cheek was flufh'd with modeft blood;
With headless nails he now furrounds her shoes,
To fave her steps from rains and piercing dews.
She lik'd his foothing tales, his presents wore ;

'And granted kiffes, 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 luftre boast,
And in hoarfe founds her melting voice is loft.
This Vulcan faw, and, in his heavenly thought,

A new machine mechanic fancy wrought,
Above the mire her fhelter'd fteps to raise,
And bear her safely through the wintery ways.
Strait the new engine on his anvil glows,

And the pale virgin on the patten rose.

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No more her lungs are shook with dropping rheums,
And on her cheek reviving beauty blooms.
The God obtain'd his fuit: though flattery fail,
Prefents with female virtue must prevail.
The patten now fupports each frugal dame,
Which from the blue-eye'd Patty takes the name.

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TRIVIA,

TRI V I A.

BOOK

II.

Of Walking the Streets by Day.

THUS far the Mufe has trac'd in ufeful lays
The proper implements for wintery ways;

Has taught the walker, with judicious eyes,
To read the various warnings of the skies:
Now venture, Mufe, from home to range the town, 5
And for the public fafety rifque thy own.

For cafe and for difpatch, the morning's beft;
No tides of paffengers the ftreets molest.

You'll fee a draggled damfel here and there,
From Billingsgate her fishy traffick bear;

On doors the fallow milk-maid chalks her gains :
Ah! how unlike the milk-maid of the plains!
Before proud gates attending affes bray,
Or arrogate with folemn pace the way;
These grave phyficians with their milky chear
The love-fick maid and dwindling beau repair;
Here rows of drummers ftand in martial file,
And with their vellum thunder fhake the pile,
To greet the new-made bride. Are founds like these
The proper prelude to a state of peace?

Now industry awakes her bufy fons ;

Full-charg'd with news the breathless hawker runs :

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Shops

'Shops open, coaches roll, carts fhake the ground,
And all the streets with paffing cries refound.

If cloath'd in black you tread the bufy town,
Or if diftinguifh'd by the reverend gown,
Three trades avoid: oft' in the mingling prefs
The barber's apron foils the fable drefs;
Shun the perfumer's touch with cautious eye,
Nor let the baker's ftep advance too nigh.
Ye walkers too, that youthful colours wear,
Three fullying trades avoid with equal care :
The little chimney-fweeper fkulks along,
And marks with footy stains the heedlefs throng;
When fmall-coal murmurs in the hoarfer throat,
From fmutty dangers guard thy threaten'd coat;
The duft-man's cart offends thy cloaths 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 fhoulder borne,
With tallow fpots thy coat; refign the way,
To thun the furly butcher's greafy tray,

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Butchers, whofe hands are dy'd with blood's foul stain, And always foremost in the hangman's train.

Let due civilities be strictly paid:

The wall furrender to the hooded maid;

Nor let thy fturdy elbow's hafty rage

Jofle the feeble steps of trembling age:

And when the porter bends beneath his load,

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And pants for breath, clear thou the crouded road. 50

But, above all, the groping blind direct;

And from the preffing throng the lame protect.

You'll

You'll fometimes meet a fop, of nicest tread,
Whofe mantling peruke veils his empty head,
At every step he dreads the wall to lose,

And rifques, to fave a coach, his red-heel'd shoes;
Him, like the miller, pafs with caution by,

Left from his fhoulder clouds of powder fly.
But when the bully, with affuming pace,

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Cocks his broad hat, edg'd round with tarnish'd lace, 60
Yield not the way, defy his ftrutting pride,
And thruft him to the muddy kennel's fide;
He never turns again, nor dares oppose,
But mutters coward-curfes as he goes.

If drawn by business to a street unknown,
Let the fworn porter point thee through the town;
Be fure observe the figns, for figns remain
Like faithful landmarks to the walking train.
Seek not from 'prentices to learn the way,
Thofe fabling boys will turn thy fteps aftray;
Afk the grave tradesman to direct thee right,
He ne'er deceives-but when he profits by 't.
Where fam'd St. Giles's antient limits fpread,
An inrail'd column rears its lofty head,
Here to seven streets feven dials count the day,
And from each other catch the circling ray,
Here oft' the peafant, with enquiring face,
Bewilder'd, trudges on from place to place;
He dwells on every fign with stupid gaze,
Enters the narrow alley's doubtful maze,
Tries every winding court and street in vain,
And doubles o'er his weary steps again.
VOL. I.

I

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75

Thus

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