Where flags the noon-tide air, and, as we pass, We fear to breathe the putrefying mass: But fearless yonder matron; she disdains To sigh for zephyrs from ambrosial plains; But mends her meshes torn, and pours her lay All in the stifling fervour of the day. Her naked children round the alley run, And roll'd in dust, are bronzed beneath the sun, Or gambol round the dame, who, loosely dress'd, Woos the coy breeze to fan the open breast: She, once a handmaid, strove by decent art To charm her sailor's eye and touch his heart; Her bosom then was veil'd in kerchief clean, And fancy left to form the charms unseen. But when a wife, she lost her former care, Nor thought on charms, nor time for dress could spare; Careless she found her friends who dwelt beside, No rival beauty kept alive her pride: Still in her bosom virtue keeps her place, But decency is gone, the virtues' guard and grace. See that long boarded Building!--By these stairs Each humble tenant to that home repairs - By one large window lighted--it was made For some bold project, some design in trade: This fail'd,--and one, a humourist in his way, (Ill was the humour), bought it in decay; Nor will he sell, repair, or take it down; 'Tis his,--what cares he for the talk of town? "No! he will let it to the poor;--a home Where he delights to see the creatures come:" "They may be thieves;"--"Well, so are richer men;" "Or idlers, cheats, or prostitutes;"--"What then?" "Outcasts pursued by justice, vile and base;" - "They need the more his pity and the place:" Convert to system his vain mind has built, He gives asylum to deceit and guilt. In this vast room, each place by habit fix'd, Are sexes, families, and ages mix'd - To union forced by crime, by fear, by need, And all in morals and in modes agreed; Some ruin'd men, who from mankind remove; Some ruin'd females, who yet talk of love; And some grown old in idleness--the prey To vicious spleen, still railing through the day; And need and misery, vice and danger bind, In sad alliance each degraded mind. That window view!--oil'd paper and old glass Stain the strong rays, which, though impeded, pass, And give a dusty warmth to that huge room, The conquer'd sunshine's melancholy gloom; When all those western rays, without so bright, Within become a ghastly glimmering light, As pale and faint upon the floor they fall, Or feebly gleam on the opposing wall: That floor, once oak, now pieced with fir unplaned, Or, where not pieced, in places bored and stain'd; That wall once whiten'd, now an odious sight, Stain'd with all hues, except its ancient white; The only door is fasten'd by a pin, Or stubborn bar that none may hurry in: For this poor room, like rooms of greater pride, At times contains what prudent men would hide. Where'er the floor allows an even space, Chalking and marks of various games have place; Boys, without foresight, pleased in halters swing; On a fix'd hook men cast a flying ring;