Some Wits have wondered what analogy
There is 'twixt[11] Cobbling and Astrology?
How PATRIGE made his optics rise
From a shoe-sole, to reach the skies?
A list, the cobblers' temples ties,
To keep the hair out of their eyes;
From whence, 'tis plain, the diadem
That Princes wear, derives from them:
And therefore crowns are now-a-days
Adorned with golden stars and rays;
Which plainly shews the near alliance
'Twixt Cobbling and the Planet science.
Besides, that slow-paced sign Bo-otes
As 'tis miscalled; we know not who 'tis?
But PATRIGE ended all disputes;
He knew his trade! and called it Boots![12]
The Horned Moon which heretofore
Upon their shoes, the Romans wore,
Whose wideness kept their toes from corns,
And whence we claim our Shoeing Horns,
Shews how the art of Cobbling bears
A near resemblance to the Spheres.
A scrap of parchment hung by Geometry,
A great refinement in Barometry,
Can, like the stars, foretell the weather:
And what is parchment else, but leather?
Which an Astrologer might use
Either for Almanacks or shoes.
Thus PATRIGE, by his Wit and parts,
At once, did practise both these Arts;
And as the boding owl (or rather
The bat, because her wings are leather)
Steals from her private cell by night,
And flies about the candle light:
So learned PATRIGE could as well
Creep in the dark, from leathern cell;
And in his fancy, fly as far,
To peep upon a twinkling star!
Besides, he could confound the Spheres
And set the Planets by the ears,
To shew his skill, he, Mars would join
To Venus, in aspect malign,
Then call in Mercury for aid,
And cure the wounds that Venus made.
Great scholars have in LUCIAN read
When PHILIP, King of Greece was dead,
His soul and spirit did divide,
And each part took a different side:
One rose a Star; the other fell
Beneath, and mended shoes in hell.
Thus PATRIGE still shines in each Art,
The Cobbling, and Star-gazing Part;
And is installed as good a star
As any of the CAESARS are.
Thou, high exalted in thy sphere,
May'st follow still thy calling there!
To thee, the Bull will lend his hide,
By Phoebus newly tanned and dried!
For thee, they Argo's hulk will tax,
And scrape her pitchy sides for wax!
Then Ariadne kindly lends
Her braided hair, to make thee ends!
The point of Sagittarius' dart
Turns to an awl, by heavenly art!
And Vulcan, wheedled by his wife,
Will forge for thee, a paring-knife!
Triumphant Star! some pity shew
On Cobblers militant below!
[13] But do not shed thy influence down
Upon St. James's end o' the Town!
Consider where the moon and stars
Have their devoutest worshippers!
Astrologers and lunatics
Have in Moorfields their stations fixt:
Hither, thy gentle aspect bend,
[14] Nor look asquint on an old friend!
[11] PATRIGE was a cobbler.
[12] See his Almanack.