Revolving Time another Glass has run,
Since I, last year, this Annual Task begun,
And Christmas now beginning to appear
(Which never comes, you know, but once a year),
I have presum'd to bring my Mite once more,
Which, tho' it be but small, is all my Store;
And I don't doubt you'll take it in good Part,
As 'tis the Tribute of a grateful Heart.
Brave Prussia's king, that true Protestant Prince,
For Valour Fam'd, endow'd with Martial Sense;
Against three mighty Potentates did stand,
Who would have plundered him of all his Land:
But God, who knew his Cause was Just and Right,
Gave him such Courage and Success in Fight:
Born to oppose the Pope's malignant clan,
He'll do whatever Prince or Hero can;
Retrieve that martial Fame by Britons lost,
And prove that Faith which graceless Christians boast.
O! make his Cause, ye Powers above! your Care;
Let Guilt shrink back, and Innocence appear.
But, now, with State Affairs I must have done,
And to the Business of my Lamps must run;
When Sun and Moon from you do hide their Head,
Your busy Streets with artful Lights are spread,
And gives you Light with great indulgent Care,
Makes the dark Night like the bright Day appear;
Then we poor useful Mortals nimbly run
To light your Lamps before the Day is gone:
With strictest Care, we to each Lamp give Fire,
The longest Night to burn: you do require
Of us to make each Lamp to burn that time,
But, oft, we do fall short of that Design:
Sometimes a Lamp goes out at Master's Door,
This happens once which ne'er did so before:
The Lamp-man's blamed, and ask'd the reason why
That should go out, and others burning by?
Kind, worthy Sirs, if I may be so bold,
A truer Tale to you was never told;
We trim, we give each Lamp their Oil alike,
Yet some goes out, while others keep alight:
Why they do so, to you we can't explain,
It ne'er did sink into our shallow Brain:
Nor have we heard that any one could tell,
That secret Place where Life of Fire does dwell,
Such various Motions in it we do find,
And a hard Task with it to please Mankind.
Now, our kind Master, who Contractor is,
If a Complaint he hears of Lamps amiss,
With strictest Care the Streets looks round about,
And views the Lamps, takes Notice which are out;
Then, in great Fury, he to us replies,
Such Lamps were out, why have I all this Noise?
Go fetch those Burners all down here to me,
That where the Fault is I may plainly see:
Then straight he views them, with Remains of Oil,
Crys, ah! I thought you did these Lamps beguile;
But now the thing I do more plainly see,
The Burning Oil is a great Mystery:
Then come, my Boys, to work, make no delay,
Keep from Complaints, if possible you may;
Clean well each Glass, I'll spare for no Expence
Where I contract, to please th' Inhabitants.
Since Time still flies, and Life is but a Vapour,
'Tis now high time that I conclude my Paper,
And, if my Verses have the Luck to Please,
My Mind will be exceedingly at ease;
But, if this shouldn't Please, I know what will,
And that's with Diligence to serve you still.
Finis.
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