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But, ah! as soon to fade away,
For Christian knights demand

my

lay. Not steel-clad Crusaders, with lances and shields, The sparkling invaders of Palestine’s fields ; Who, marching o'er deserts, or vineyards and balm, In the blaze of the sun, or the shade of the palm, Planted the cross amid havoc and death, On the sands of Damascus and Nazareth. Whose helmeted leaders gave charge through the cedars,

At sound of the trumpets on Lebanon's mount,
And roll'd man and horse of the Saracen force

Down to the waters of Galilee's fount.
Fearless were they, by night or by day,
Of the infidel legions that barr’d the way ;
Who, with turban and beard, and scymitars rear'd,

Through whirlwinds of sand on their enemies dash'd; And gloried to fall on the breach of the wall,

Where the crescented flag o’er the battlements flash'd.-
Nor sing I of the knights whose fame
Minstrels and troubadours proclaim ;
Who, pricking o'er enchanted ground,
By forest dark, or moated mound,

Where captive beauty sigh’d,
Spite of the guardian dragon's yell,
Smote the black giant grim and fell,
Rescued the nymph from wizard spell,

And claim'd the blushing bride.
Alas! no fancy-woven wreaths

Their perfume o'er my pathway shed,
And no melodious spirit breathes

Wild inspiration o'er my head.
Here we must close our proem (what a pity!)
And tumble from Parnassus to

THE CITY.
Bright broke the morning in the blaze
Of London's own romantic traits.

And now (so great Hippona pleased)

Two coaches rattled past;
Their bugle-horns the guardmen seized,
And from their pigmy throttles squeezed

An angry giant's blast.
Now let the reader take a view
Of Norton Falgate, and pursue
Each peak-topp'd tenement to where
A squat snug man, with sable hair,

And dirty night-cap, he may see,
Brought to the window by the roar,
Which might have split the scull he bore,
Unless, indeed, 'twas crack'd before,

As sculls like his are apt to be. O reader, fix your eyes where I have said ; For from that window peeps my hero's head ! Yes, yes; 'tis Nehemiah MuggsA name that would inspirit slugs ! With poet-frensy make a mite

Leap from his cheese of Stilton,
And every native oyster write

As if he were a Milton!
But see, he quits the attic story,

So I'll prepare to do the same,
And in plain English lay before ye
The birth, profession, and the glory,

Of him who own'd this classic name.

His pedigree was old, no doubt,
Only he could not make it out;
Though surely 'tis self-evident,
That he might boast a great descent.
Some who are learned heralds can tell
Men's ancestry from shield, or mantle :-
If like Elijah's mantle, theirs
Entail'd its virtues on its heirs,

Bidding the wearer still inherit
Its primitive possessor's merit;
Why then some nobles would

appear
Just the reverse of what they are.-
But all NE.'s claim to ancestry
Some genealogists deny,
And prove by treatise erudite
He was a human aërolite,
Ejected from some moon volcano,
(Though that is more than I or they know),
Where still are kept the wits of Muggs,
In one of Ariosto’s jugs.-
If he had chosen to have had 'em,
He might have bought descents from Adam;
And proved his folly and his blood
By pedigrees from old King Lud,
Such as the College keeps by dozens,
With blanks for Norman sires and cousins.-

Birth cannot give our faults redemption ;
'Tis an excitement, not exemption.-
Intrinsic honesty and knowledge
Emblaze themselves, without the College ;
While herald honours on the base

Do but degrade their wearers more,
As sweeps, whom May-day trappings grace,

Show ten times blacker than before.

As to his trade our hero held
Chattels and goods by few excell'd;
Such as brooms, pipkins, treacle, tops,
Tobacco, brickdust, lollipops,
Gilt gingerbread, and penny trumpets,
Red herrings, blacking, snuff, and crumpets:
In short, the catalogue to stop,
He kept a thriving chandler's shop.-

Snuff, treacle, tops, he spurn’d them all,
Fancying he heard a voice beseeching
Him (Muggs !) to listen to a call,
And go, like Hudibras, a-preaching.-
'Twas a new light, which might, in fact,
Have enter'd where his head was crack'd.
Is it that addled brains perchance,
When the scull's dark with ignorance,
Like rotten eggs survey'd at night,
Emit a temporary light?
Or is it that a heated brain,
When it is rubb'd against the grain,
Like a cat's back, though dark as charcoal,
Will in the gloom appear to sparkle ?
Whatever was the cause, the fact is,

That Muggs conceived his call was true; And so began to read and practise,

To fit him for his grand début.

'Twas his first care his voice to muffle,
And get the genuine nasal snuffle ;
For these low candlestick apostles
Illuminate us from their nozzles,
And through the nose as surely pray,
As make their congregations pay.-
To aid his whine, an ample dose
Of snuff was thrust into his nose,
As old Demosthenes put stones
Into his mouth to mend his tones :-
Last, he resolved his stile should be
Original and savoury ;
While to prevent the sneers and sniggers

Of those who look for learned theses,
He studied metaphors and figures,

Tropes, similes, and catachreses, That both Quintilian and Longinus Should over-reach or undermine us.-

So qualified and recommended,

To Stratford fair, with pompous pace,

And solemn sanctimonious face, He bent his way -a cart ascended, And thus, collecting all his powers, Scatter'd his oratoric flowers:

« Viler than vilest of vile sinners! Ye who at fairs or alehouse dinners

Sup on your reprobate Welsh rabbit; Ye who love skittles, bowls, and dice, And make disorder'd nights of vice

Your regular and daily habit :What! will ye still, ye heathen, flee

From sanctity and grace,
Until
your

blind idolatry
Shall stare you in the face ?
Will ye throw off the mask, and show
Thereby the cloven foot below?
Dombut remember you must pay
What's due to you on settling day;
For Heaven's eye, it stands sense,

Can never stomach such transgressions ;
Nor can the hand of Providence
Wink at your impious expressions.-
The profligate thinks vengeance dead,

And in his fancied safety chuckles,But Atheism's hydra head

Shall have a rap upon the knuckles ;The never-blushing cheek of vice Shall kick the bucket in a trice; While the deaf ear that never pray'd, Shall quickly by the heels be laid.” At this display of declamation, The unconverted congregation Laughter in such loud peals emits, * That Echo seem'd to be in fits ;

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