Page:Poetical Works of John Oldham.djvu/210

200 Besides the brawls of coachmen, when they meet, And stop in turnings of a narrow street, Such a loud medley of confusion make, As drowsy Archer on the bench would wake. 'If you walk out in business ne'er so great, Ten thousand stops you must expect to meet; Thick crowds in every place you must charge through, And storm your passage wheresoe'er you go; While tides of followers behind you throng, And, pressing on your heels, shove you along; One with a board, or rafter, hits your head, Another with his elbow bores your side; Some tread upon your corns, perhaps in sport, Meanwhile your legs are cased all o'er with dirt; Here, you the march of a slow funeral wait, Advancing to the church with solemn state; There, a sedan and lacquies stop your way, That bears some punk of honour to the play; Now, you some mighty piece of timber meet, Which tottering threatens ruin to the street; Next, a huge Portland stone, for building Paul's, Itself almost a rock, on carriage rolls; Which, if it fall, would cause a massacre, And serve at once to murder, and inter. 'If what I've said can't from the town affright, Consider other dangers of the night: When brickbats are from upper stories thrown, And empty chamber-pots come pouring down From garret windows; you have cause to bless The gentle stars, if you come off with piss; So many fates attend, a man had need, Ne'er walk without a surgeon by his side; And he can hardly now discreet be thought, That does not make his will ere he go out.