A TRAVELLER'S DREAM.
Last Night as slumbering on my Bed I lay,
Good People pray now mind but what I say,
I thought as I was walking over cross Nun's Green,
I saw the fairest Goddess that was ever seen:
Her Head reclining o'er the purling Stream,
At first I thought this could not be a Dream,
I ask'd her Name, and weeping thus said she,
I once was call'd, that Jewel Liberty.
I ask'd her, why she in that Posture lay,
She rais'd Her head, and softly thus did say,
With broken Accents and with flowing Tears,
"I have liv'd here, Four Hundred and Sixty Years;
Was station'd here by Glorious John of Gaunt,
Who never thought the poor should ever want,
But now I'm doom'd to die a cruel Death,
By Gentlemen, who never knew my Birth;
Because I gave Assistance to the Poor,
And oft times kept the Wolf, Sir, from the Door,
Because I'll not be sold the Streets to light,
That is the Reason, Sir they owe me spite;
If Gentlemen could only once agree,
They need not hang nor sell poor Liberty,
But let me live as I was first design'd,
To be a Comfort to the poorest Kind:
Tho' I'm the smallest of that Family,
I'm not the only Child of Liberty.
If you will tamely stand and see me die,
You'll soon repent the Loss of Liberty:
My other Sisters soon, must fall a Prey,
To those who falsely take my Life away;
Now Tyranny does put the Town in Fear,
Don't wonder why I drop this melting Tear,
Tread on a Worm, that Insect cannot bite,
But turns in Anguish to revenge its Spite:
So let them know such Usage you'll not brook
Whilst such a Man does live as Parker Coke;"
At this I shouted, but found it a Joke,
A Dream it was, so instantly awoke.
A Poem,
Found by Mr. * * * and Dedicated to Major Trowel.—MDCCXCII.
When Heav'n from Earth had shut out day,
And all was wrapt in darkest night,
On Nuns Green Bridge in proud array
There stood a venerable sprite.
Pale was his face, and, marked with scars,
His burnished steel was all complete;
The same with which in rueful wars,
He did our ancient foes defeat.
A goodly Knight, forsooth, was he,
(As in old story may be seen)
For he to Derby gave in Fee,
That airy, healthful, pleasant Green.
Across the plain the spectre went,
(He stalked with all the pomp of yore)
Then calling loud, "I'm John of Ghent,"
He tapt at Sammy's chamber door.
Now pow'r of speech from Samuel flew,
His pride and courage were quite gone,
Full sorely now he did him rue,
Of all the guilty deeds he'd done.
The door upon the hinges creak'd,
In came the Envoy from the dead,
Poor Sammy, sweating, frighted, sneaked
Under the cov'ring of his bed.