THE Splendid Shilling, John Philips Alexander Huber Editor Bodleian Libraries, University of Oxford
Broad Street Oxford OX1 3BG UK
Eighteenth-Century Poetry Archive
Taylor Institution Library St Giles' Oxford OX1 3NA UK info@eighteenthcenturypoetry.org https://www.eighteenthcenturypoetry.org/
Oxford This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike 3.0 Unported License. T34436 Bramston, James, 1694?-1744. The Crooked six-pence. With a Learned preface Found among Some Papers bearing Date the same Year in which Paradise Lost was published by the late Dr. Bently [poems only]. London printed for R. Dodsley at Tully's-Head in Pall-Mall; and sold by M. Cooper at the Globe in Pater-Noster Row 1743 pp. 11-14. x,24p.

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THE Splendid Shilling , by Mr. John Phillips . —— Sing , heav'nly Muse , Things unattempted yet in Prose or Rhime , A Shilling , Breeches , and Chimera's dire . Happy the Man , who void of Care and Strife , In silken or in leathern Purse retains A Splendid Shilling : He nor hears with Pain New Oysters cry'd , nor sighs for chearful Ale ; But with his Friends , when mighty Mists arise , To Juniper's , Magpye , or Town Hall repairs : Where mindful of the Nymph , whose wanton Eye Transfix'd his Soul , and kindled amorous Flames , Chloe or Phillis ; he each circling Glass Wisheth her Health , and Joy , and equal Love . Mean while , he smoaks and laughs at merry Tale , Or Pun ambiguous , or Conundrum quaint . But I , whom griping Penury surrounds , And Hunger , sure Attendant upon Want , With scanty Offals , and small acid Tiff ( Wretched Repast ! ) my meagre Corps sustain : Then solitary walk , or doze at home In Garret vile , and with a warming Puff Regale chill'd Fingers ; or from Tube as black As Winter Chimney , or well-polish'd Jet , Exhale Mundungus , ill-perfuming Scent : Not blacker Tube , nor of a shorter Size Smoaks Cambro-Britain ( vers'd in Pedigree , Sprung from Cadwalader and Arthur , Kings Full famous in romantick Tale ) when he O'er many a craggy Hill and barren Cliff , Upon a Cargo of fam'd Cestrian Cheese , High over-shadowing rides , with a design To vend his Wares , or at the Arvonian Mart , Or Maridunum , or the ancient Town Ecleap'd Brechinia , or where Vaga's Stream Encircles Ariconium , fruitful Soil , Whence flow nectareous Wines , that well may vie With Massic , Setin , or renown'd Falern . Thus , while my joyless Minutes tedious flow , With Looks demure , and silent Pace , a Dunn , Horrible Monster ! hated by Gods and Men , To my aerial Citadel ascends ; With vocal Heel thrice thund'ring at my Gates , With hideous Accent thrice he calls ; I know The Voice ill-boding , and the solemn Sound . What shou'd I do ? or whither turn ? Amaz'd , Confounded , to the dark Recess I fly Of Woodhole ; strait my bristling Hairs erect Thro' sudden Fear ; a chilly Sweat bedews My shudd'ring Limbs , and ( wonderful to tell ! ) My Tongue forgets her Faculty of Speech ; So horrible he seems ! his faded Brows Entrench'd with many a Frown , and conic Beard And spreading Band , admir'd by modern Saints , Disastrous Acts forebode ; in his Right Hand Long Scrolls of Paper solemnly he waves , With Characters and Figures dire inscrib'd , Grievous to mortal Eyes ; ( ye Gods , avert Such Plagues from righteous Men ! ) behind him stalks Another Monster , not unlike himself , Sullen of Aspect , by the Vulgar call'd A Catchpole , whose polluted Hands the Gods With Force incredible , and Magick Charms Erst have endu'd : if he is ample Palm Should haply on ill-fated Shoulder lay Of Debtor , strait his Body , to the Touch Obsequious ( as whilom Knights were wont ) To some enchanted Castle is convey'd , Where Gates impregnable , and coercive Chains In Durance strict detain him , till in form Of Money , Pallas sets the Captive free . Beware , ye Debtors , when ye walk beware , Be circumspect ; oft with insidious Ken This Caitif eyes your Steps aloof , and oft Lies perdue in a Nook or gloomy Cave , Prompt to enchant some inadvertent Wretch With his unhallow'd Touch . So ( Poets sing ) Grimalkin to Domestick Vermin sworn An everlasting Foe , with watchful Eye Lies nightly brooding o'er a chinky Gap , Protending her fell Claws , to thoughtless Mice Sure Ruin . So her disembowel'd Web Arachne in a Hall , or Kitchen spreads , Obvious to vagrant Flies : She secret stands Within her woven Cell ; the humming Prey , Regardless of their Fate , rush on the Toils Inextricable , nor will aught avail Their Arts , nor Arms , nor Shapes of lovely hue ; The Wasp insidious , and the buzzing Drone , And Butterfly proud of expanded Wings Distinct with Gold , entangled in her Snares , Useless Resistance make : With eager Strides , She tow'ring flies to her expected Spoils ; Then with envenom'd Jaws the vital Blood Drinks of reluctant Foes , and to her Cave Their bulky Carcasses triumphant drags . So pass my Days . But when Nocturnal Shades This World invelop , and th'inclement Air Persuades Men to repel benumming Frosts With pleasant Wines , and crackling Blaze of Wood ; Me lonely sitting , nor the glimmering Light Of Make-weight Candle , nor the joyous Talk Of loving Friend delights ; distress'd , forlorn , Amidst the Horrors of the tedious Night , Darkling I sigh , and feed with dismal Thoughts My anxious Mind ; or sometimes mournful Verse Indite , and sing of Groves and Myrtle Shades , Or desperate Lady near a purling Stream , Or Lover pendent on a Willow-Tree : Mean while , I labour with eternal Drought , And restless wish and rave my parched Throat Finds no Relief , nor heavy Eyes Repose : But if a Slumber haply does invade My weary Limbs , my Fancy's still awake , Thoughtful of Drink , and eager , in a Dream , Tipples imaginary Pots of Ale : In vain ; awake I find the settled Thirst Still gnawing , and the pleasant Phantom curse . Thus do I live from Pleasure quite debarr'd , Nor taste the Fruits that the Sun's genial Rays Mature , John-Apple , nor the downy Peach , Nor Walnut in rough-furrow'd Coat secure , Nor Medlar , Fruit delicious in Decay : Afflictions great ! yet greater still remain : My Galligaskins that have long withstood The Winter's Fury , and encroaching Frosts , By Time subdued ( what will not Time subdue ! ) An horrid Chasm disclose , with Orifice Wide , discontinous ; at which the Winds Eurus and Auster , and the dreadful Force Of Boreas , that congeals the Cronian Waves , Tumultuous enter with dire chilling Blasts , Portending Agues . Thus a well-fraught Ship Long sail'd secure , or thro' the Ægean Deep , Or the Ionian , till cruising near The Lilybean Shoar , with hideous Crush On Scylla , or Charybdis ( dang'rous Rocks ) She strikes rebounding , whence the shatter'd Oak , So firce a Shock unable to withstand , Admits the Sea ; in at the gaping Side The crowding Waves gush with impetuous Rage , Resistless , Overwhelming ; Horrors seize The Mariners , Death in their Eyes appears , They stare , they lave , they pump , they swear , they pray ; ( Vain Efforts ! ) still the battering Waves rush in Implacable , till delug'd by the Foam , The Ship sinks found'ring in the vast Abyss .