Hither and thither from the sevenfold road Some cart or wagon crosses, which divides The close-wedged audience; but, as when the tides To ploughing ships give way, the ship being past, They reunite, so these unite as fast. The older Songstress hitherto hath spent Her elocution in the argument Of their great Song in _prose_; to wit, the woes Which Maiden true to faithless Sailor owes-- Ah! "_Wandering He!_"--which now in loftier _verse_ Pathetic they alternately rehearse. All gaping wait the event. This Critic opes His right ear to the strain. The other hopes To catch it better with his left. Long trade It were to tell, how the deluded maid A victim fell. And now right greedily All hands are stretching forth the songs to buy, That are so tragical; which She, and She, Deals out, and _sings the while_; nor can there be A breast so obdurate here, that will hold back His contribution from the gentle rack Of Music's pleasing torture. Irus' self, The staff-propt Beggar, his thin gotten pelf Brings out from pouch, where squalid farthings rest, And boldly claims his ballad with the best. An old Dame only lingers. To her purse The penny sticks. At length, with harmless curse, "Give me," she cries. "I'll paste it on my wall, While the wall lasts, to show what ills befall Fond hearts, seduced from Innocency's way; How Maidens fall, and Mariners betray." [Footnote 1: Seven Dials] * * * * * II. TO DAVID COOK, OF THE PARISH OF ST. MARGARET'S, WESTMINSTER, WATCHMAN.