Page:Poetical Works of John Oldham.djvu/212

A poor man must expect nought of redress,
But patience; his best course in such a case
Is to be thankful for the drubs, and beg
That they would mercifully spare one leg,
Or arm unbroke, and let him go away
With teeth enough to eat his meat next day.
⁠'Nor is this all which you have cause to fear;
Oft we encounter midnight padders here,
When the exchanges and the shops are close,
And the rich tradesman in his counting-house
To view the profits of the day withdraws.
Hither in flocks from Shooter's Hill they come,
To seek their prize and booty nearer home:
’Your purse!' they cry; 'tis madness to resist,
Or strive, with a cocked pistol at your breast.
And these each day so strong and numerous grow,
The town can scarce afford them jail-room now.
Happy the times of the old Heptarchy,
Ere London knew so much of villany;
Then fatal carts through Holborn seldom went,
And Tyburn with few pilgrims was content;
A less, and single prison then would do,
And served the City and the County too.
⁠'These are the reasons, sir, which drive me hence,
To which I might add more, would time dispense
To hold you longer; but the sun draws low,
The coach is hard at hand, and I must go;
Therefore, dear sir, farewell; and when the town
From better company can spare you down,
To make the country with your presence blessed,
Then visit your old friend amongst the rest;
There I'll find leisure to unlade my mind
Of what remarks I now must leave behind;
The fruits of dear experience, which, with these
Improved, will serve for hints and notices;
And when you write again, may be of use
To furnish satire for your daring muse.'