Toaft church and queen, explain the news, * A TALE OF CHAUCER, W Lately found in an Old Manufcript. OMEN, though nat fans leacherie, Ne fwinken but with fecrecie: This in our tale is plain y-fond, Of clerk that wonneth in Ireland; Which to the fennes hath him betake To filch the gray ducke fro the lake. Right then there paffen by the way His aunt, and eke her daughters tway : Ducke in his trowzes hath he hent, Not to be spied of ladies gent. "But ho! our nephew, (crieth one,) "Ho! quoth another, couzen John ;' And stoppen, and lough, and callen out,-This fely clerk full low doth lout. They afken that, and talken this, "Lo here is cox, and here is mifs." But, But, as he gloz'd with speeches foote, The ducke fore tickleth his erfe roote: Fore-piece and buttons all to-breft, Forth thrust a white neck and red creft. Te-he, cry'd ladies; clerke nought fpake; Mifs ftar'd; and gray ducke crieth quaake. "O moder, moder, (quoth the daughter) "Be thilke fame thing maids longen a'ter? "Bette is to pyne on coals and chalke, "Then trust on mon, whofe yerde can talke. THE ALLEY. An Imitation of SPENCER. I. IN ev'ry town where Thamis rolls his tide A narrow pass there is, with houses low; Where ever and anon the stream is ey'd, And many a boat soft fliding to and fro: There oft' are heard the notes of infant woe, The short thick fob, loud scream, and shriller fquall: How can ye, mothers, vex your children fo? Some play, fome eat, fome cack against the wall, And, as they crouchen low, for bread and butter call. 2 II. And IL And on the broken pavement here and there And here a failor's jacket hangs to dry; At ev'ry door are fun-burnt matrons feen, Mending old nets to catch the fcaly fry ; Now finging fhrill, and fcolding oft between; Scolds anfwer foul-mouth'd fcolds; bad neighbourhood, I ween. III. The snappifh cur (the paffengers annoy) Close at my heel with yelping treble flies ; The whimp'ring girl and hoarfer-screaming boy Join to the yelping treble fhrilling cries; The fcolding quean to louder notes doth rife, And her full pipes thofe fhrilling cries confound; To her full pipes the grunting hog replies; The grunting hogs alarm the neighbours round, And curs, girls, boys, and fcolds, in the deep base are drown'd. IV. IV. Hard by a fty, beneath a roof of thatch, Dwelt Obloquy, who in her early days Baskets of fish at Billingsgate did watch, Cod, whiting, oyfter, mackrel, sprat, or plaice: There learn'd the fpeech from tongues that never cease. Slander befide her, like a magpye chatters, With Envy (fpitting cat) dread foe to peace; Likea curs'd cur, Malice before her clatters, And, vexing ev'ry wight, tears cloaths and all to tatters. V. Her dugswere mark'd by ev'ry collier's hand, Her mouth was black as bull-dogs at the ftall: She scratched, bit, and spar'd ne lace ne band; And bitch and rogue her answer was to all; Nay, e'en the parts of fhame by name wou'd call. Whene'er fhe paffed by a lane or nook, Wou'd greet the man who turn'd him to the wall, And by his hand obfcene the porter took, Nor ever did afkance like modeft virgin look. VI. Such F VI. Such place hath Deptford, navy-building town; Woolwich and Wapping, smelling ftrong of pitch: Such Lambeth,envy of each band and gown; And Twick'nam fuch, which fairer scenes enrich, Grots, statues, urns, and Jo--n's dog and bitch: Ne village is without, on either fide, All up the filver Thames, or all a-down; Ne Richmond's felf, from whofe tall front are ey'd Vales, fpires, meandring ftreams, and Windfor's tow'ry pride. *THE CAPON'S TALE, To a Lady who father'd her Lampoons upon her Acquaintance. N Yorkshire dwelt a fober IN yeoman, Whose wife, a clean, pains-taking wo man, Fed num'rous poultry in her pens, And faw her cocks well ferve her hens. I A hen |