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CLODIO IN PRISON.

BY PETER PINDAR,

CLODIO, thy ruin is complete

Fairly art thou, my friend, done up. PRINCES have done this pretty feat; And, easy smiling, see thee sup,

And sleep, and breakfast too, and dine

With good DUKE HUMPHRY, Duke of PHA

ROAH's kine;

That is to say-exceeding lean, Ragged, unwholesome, yea, unclean ! And in a jail, where sunk-eyed INANITION, Quite chop-fall'n, damns the folly of AMBITION.

Still, 'midst thy poverty and rags,

Thou makest to the jail thy brags;

And pleas'd, of PRINCES tellest many a story;
And fanciest, that when thou art dead,
A spendor will surround thy head-

Ev'n so!-that thou shalt lie along in GLORY!

Vain Youth!-now prithee cast thine eye
On that poor spendor-hunting Fly,

Sporting around thy taper's blaze:-
How blest, the buzzing INSECT sings,
Catching the radiance on his wings!
How fascinated with the rays!

A minute will decide his fate:

Nearer, and nearer, round he flies;

Still nearer, nearer-how elate !—

There ends existence-hark! his cries!

Down drops the wretch amidst the fire-
And see him on his back expire!
Now a poor coal! sad transmigration!
Yet cover'd with illumination!

Such is the Fly's, and such thy story;

And lo, like him, thou ly'st in GLORY!

THE

SPLENDID SHILLING.

BY PHILIPS.

Sing, heavenly Muse,

Things unattempted yet, in prose or rhyme," A shilling, breeches, and chimeras dire.

HAPPY the man, who, void of cares and strife, In silken or in leathern purse retains

A Splendid Shilling: he nor hears with pain
New oysters cry'd, nor sighs for cheerful ale;
But with his friends, when nightly mists arise, :
To Juniper's Magpie, or Town-Hall* repairs;
Where, mindful of the nymph whose wanton eye.
Transfix'd his soul, and kindled amorous flames,
Chloe or Phillis, he each circling glass
Wisheth her health, and joy, and equal love.
Meanwhile, he smokes, and laughs at merry tale,
Or pun ambiguous, or conundrum quaint.

Two noted alehouses in Oxford, 1700.

But 1, whom griping penury surrounds,
And hunger, sure attendant upon want,
With scanty offals, and small acid tiff
(Wretched repast!) my meagre corpse sustain:
Then solitary walk, or doze at home

In garret vile, and with a warming puff
Regale chill'd fingers; or from tube as black
As winter-chimney, or well-polish'd jet,
Exhale mundungus, ill-perfuming scent;
Not blacker tube, nor of a shorter size,
Smokes Cambro-Briton (vers'd in pedigree,
Sprung from Cadwalador and Arthur, kings
Full famous in romantic tale) when he
hill and barren cliff,

O'er

many a craggy
Upon a cargo of fam'd Cestrian cheese,
High overshadowing rides, with a design

To vend his wares, or at th' Arvonian mart,
Or Maridunum, or the ancient town

Yclep'd Brechinia, or where Vaga's stream

Encircles Ariconium, fruitful soil!

Whence flow nectareous wines, that well may vie

Thus while my joyless minutes tedious flow,
With looks demure, and silent pace, a Dun,
Horrible monster! hated by gods and men,
To my aërial citadel ascends,

With vocal heel thrice thundering at my gate,
With hideous accent thrice he calls; I know
The voice ill-boding, and the solemn sound.
What should I do? or whither turn? Amaz'd,
Confounded, to the dark recess I fly

Of wood-hole; strait my bristling hairs erect Through sudden fear; a chilly sweat bedews My shuddering limbs, and (wonderful to tell!) My tongue forgets her faculty of speech;

So horrible he seems! His faded brow

Entrench'd with many a frown, and conic beard,
And spreading band, admir'd by modern saints,
Disastrous acts forbode; in his right hand
Long scrolls of paper solemnly he waves,
With characters and figures dire inscrib'd,
Grievous to mortal eyes; (ye gods, avert
Such plagues from mortal men!) Behind him stalks
Another monster, not unlike himself,

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