That we may make to consequence,
Who, by our turns and windings, strive
To make this flying commerce thrive:
Too happy when we carry home
Bags of Bank rags for which we roam:
Nay, I may think I owe to you,
That mine are safe within my view,
And any wish I will obey,
Which to my power you may convey.'
"I seiz'd the time and told my tale,
At least, as much as might avail
Some settlement in town to find,
That suited both my means and mind;
When by advice, and, which was better,
By a most urgent, friendly letter,
Arriv'd in London,—I soon found
I did not tread on hostile ground: |
Nay, ere a week was pass'd and gone,
Fortune, I hop'd had ceas'd to frown,
As I did now a station own, | } |
With promis'd comfort by my side,
That gave me gains, nor hurt my pride.
But my misfortunes were not past,
Though this I hope will be my last,
Or I'll avenge me of the pack,
The foe I carry on my back;
From London Bridge I'll dash me plump,—
And drown th' incorrigible Hump. |