As any of the Cæsars are.
Triumphant star! some pity show
On cobblers militant below,
Whom roguish boys in stormy nights
Torment by pissing out their lights,
Or thro' a chink convey their smoke
Inclos'd artificers to choke.
Thou, high exalted in thy sphere,
May'st follow still thy calling there.
To thee the Bull will lend his hide,