On Wood * the patentee's Irish half-pence.
Written in the Year 1724.
S when the 'fquire and tinker, Wood, Gravely confulting Ireland's good, Together mingled in a mass
Smith's duft, and copper, lead, and brafs; The mixture thus by chymick art United close in ev'ry part,
In fillets roll'd, or cut in pieces, Appear'd like one continu'd species; And, by the forming engine ftruck, On all the fame impression stuck.
So, to confound this hated coin, All parties and religions join; Whigs, Tories, Trimmers, Hanoverians, Quakers, Conformifts, Presbyterians, Scotch, Irish, English, French unite, With equal int'reft, equal pight; Together mingled in a lump, Do all in one opinion jump; And ev'ry one begins to find The fame impreffion on his mind. A ftrange event! whom gold incites To blood and quarrels, brass unites:
* See an Account of Wood's project in the Drapier's letters, Vol. X.
So, goldfmiths fay, the coarseft stuff Will ferve for folder well enough: So by the kettle's loud alarm The bees are gather'd to a fwarm : So by the brazen trumpet's blufter Troops of all tongues and nations muster: And fo the harp of Ireland brings Whole crowds about its brazen ftrings.
There is a chain let down from Jove, But faften'd to his throne above,
So strong, that from the lower end, They say, all human things depend. This chain, as ancient poets hold, When Jove was young, was made of gold. Prometheus once this chain purloin'd, Diffolv'd, and into money coin'd; Then whips me on a chain of brass: (Venus was brib'd to let it pass.) Now, while this brazen chain prevail'd, Jove faw that all devotion fail'd; No temple to his Godfhip rais'd; No facrifice at altars blaz'd;
In short, fuch dire confufion follow'd, Earth muft have been in chaos fwallow'd.
* A great lady was faid to have been bribed by Wood.
Jove stood amaz’d; but, looking round, With much ado the cheat he found; 'Twas plain he cou'd no longer hold The world in any chain but gold; And to the God of wealth, his brother, Sent Mercury to get another,
Prometheus on a rock is laid,
Ty'd with a chain himself had made, On icy Caucafus to shiver,
While vulturs eat his growing liver.
Ye pow'rs of Grubftreet, make me able Discreetly to apply this fable;
Say, who is to be understood
By that old thief Prometheus? WOOD. For Jove, it is not hard to guess him; I mean his Majefty, God bless him. This thief and blackfmith was fo bold, He strove to steal that chain of gold, Which links the subject to the king, And change it for a brazen string. But sure, if nothing else must pass Between the king and us, but brafs, Although the chain will never crack, Yet our devotion may grow flack. But Jove will foon convert, I hope, This brazen chain into a rope;
With which Prometheus fhall be ty'd, And high in air for ever ride; Where, if we find his liver grows, For want of vulturs, we have crows.
ITH ev'ry lady in the land Soft Strephon kept a pother;
One year he languifh'd for one hand, And next year for the other.
Yet, when his love the shepherd told To Flavia fair and coy,
Referv'd, demure, than fnow more cold, She fcorn'd the gentle boy.
Late at a ball he own'd his pain:
She blush'd, and frown'd, and fwore, With all the marks of high difdain, She'd never hear him more. The swain perfifted ftill to pray, The nymph ftill to deny;
At laft fhe vow'd the wou'd not stay; He fwore the fhou'd not fly. Enrag'd, the call'd her footman ftrait, And rufh'd from out the room, Drove to her lodging, lock'd the gate, And lay with Ralph at home.
THIS day (the year I dare not
Apollo play'd the midwife's part; Into the world Corinna fell,
And he endow'd her with his art. But Cupid with a Satyr comes;
Both foftly to the cradle creep;
Both ftroke her hands, and rub her gums,
While the poor child lay faft afleep. Then Cupid thus; This little maid Of love fhall always fpeak and write : And I pronounce (the Satyr faid)
The world fhall feel her scratch and bite. Her talent she display'd betimes;
For in twice twelve revolving moons She feem'd to laugh and fquawl in rhymes, And all her geftures were lampoons. At fix years old the fubtle jade
Stole to the pantry-door, and found The butler with my lady's maid; And you may fwear the tale went round. She made a fong, how little miss
Was kifs'd and flobber'd by a lad ; And how, when mafter went to p---, Mifs came, and peep'd at all he had.
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