I lay a Pris'ner twenty Years;

And then the Jovial Cavaliers,

To their old Poft reftor'd all Three,

I mean the Church, the King, and Me,

PROMETHEU S.

On WOOD the Patentee's Irish Half-Pence.

A

Written in the Year 1724.

S, when the 'Squire and Tinker, Wood,
Gravely confulting Ireland's Good,

Together mingl❜d in a Mass

Smith's Duft, and Copper, Lead and Brass ;

The Mixture thus by Chymick Art

United close in ev'ry Part,

In Fillets roll'd, or cut in Pieces,
Appear'd like one continued Species;
And by the forming Engine ftruck,
On all the fame Impreffion ftuck.

So, to confound this hated Coin,
All Parties and Religions join;
Whigs, Tories, Trimmers, Hanoverians,
Quakers, Conformists, Prefbyterians.

Scotch

Scotch, Irish, English, French, unite
With equal Int'rest, equal Spite;
Together mingled in a Lump,
Do all in one Opinion jump;
And ev'ry one begins to find
The fame Impression on his Mind.

A STRANGE Event! whom Gold incites,
To Blood and Quarrels, Brass unites:
So Goldfmith's fay, the coarseft Stuff
Will ferve for Solder well enough;
So, by the Kettle's loud Alarm,
The Bees are gather'd to a Swarm :
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 Strings..

II.

THERE is a Chain let down from Jove,

But faften'd to his Throne above;

So ftrong, that from the lower End,
They fay, 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,

A great Lady was reported to have been bribed by Wood.

Now, while this brazen Chain prevailed, Jove faw that all Devotion fail'd;

No Temple to his Godship rais'd;
No Sacrifice on Altars blaz'd;

In fhort, fuch dire Confufion follow'd,
Earth muft have been in Chaos fwallow'd.
Jove ftood amaz'd, but looking round,
With much ado the Cheat he found;
'Twas plain he could no longer hold
The World in any Chains but Gold;
And to the God of Wealth, his Brother,
Sent Mercury to get another.

III.

PROMETHEUS on a Rock was laid, Ty'd with the Chain himself had made; On Icy Caucafus to shiver,

While Vultures eat his growing Liver.

IV.

YE Pow'rs of Grub-street, 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 My, God blefs Him.
This Thief and Blacksmith was fo bold,
He ftrove to steal that Chain of Gold,

Which links the Subject to the King;
And change it for a Brazen String.
But fure, if nothing else must pass
Between the King and us but Brass,
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 Vultures we have Crows,

Verfes on the upright Judge, who condemned the DRAPIER's Printer.

Written in the Year 1724.

HE Church I hate, and have good Reason :

TH

For, there my Grandfire cut his Weazon

He cut his Weazon at the Altar ;

I keep my Gullet for the Halter.

On

IN

On the fame.

N Church your Grandfire cut his Throat;
To do the Jobb too long he tarry'd,
He should have had my hearty Vote,
To cut his Throat before he marry'd;

On the fame.

The JUDGE Speaks,

'M not the Grandfon of that Afs* Quin;

Nor can you prove it, Mr, Pafquin.

My Grand-dame had Gallants by Twenties,
And bore my Mother by a Prentice.

This, when my Grandfire knew; they tell us he,
In Christ-Church cut his Throat for Jealousy.
And, fince the Alderman was mad you say,
Then, I must be fo too, ex traduce.

* An Alderman.

STELLA'S