| What various transformations we remark, |
| From east Whitechapel to the west
Hyde Park! |
| Men, women, children, houses, signs, and fashions, |
| State, stage, trade, taste, the humours
and the passions; |
| The Exchange, Change Alley, wheresoeer youre ranging, |
| Court, city, country, all are
changed or changing: |
| The streets, some time ago, were paved with stones, |
| Which, aided by a hackney-
coach, half broke your bones. |
| The purest lovers then indulged in bliss; |
| They run great hazard if they
stole a kiss. |
| One chaste salute!the damsel criedOh, fie! |
| As they approachdslap went the coach
awry |
| Poor Sylvia got a bump, and Damon a black eye. |
| But now weak nerves in hackney-coaches
roam, |
| And the crammd glutton snores, unjolted, home; |
| Of former times, that polishd thing a beau, |
| Is
metamorphosed now from top to toe; |
| Then the full flaxen wig, spread oer the shoulders, |
| Conceald the
shallow head from the beholders. |
| But now the wholes reversedeach fop appears, |
| Croppd and trimmd
up, exposing head and ears: |
| The buckle then its modest limits knew, |
| Now, like the ocean, dreadful to
the view, |
| Hath broke its bounds, and swallowed up the shoe: |
| The wearers foot, like his once fine estate, |
| Is almost lost, the encumbrance is so great. |
| Ladies may smileare they not in the plot? |
| The bounds of
nature have not they forgot? |
| Were they designd to be, when put together, |
| Made up, like shuttlecocks, of
cork and feather? |
| Their pale-faced grandmammas appeared with grace |
| When dawning blushes rose
upon the face; |
| No blushes now their once-loved station seek; |
| The foe is in possession of the cheek! |
| No heads of old, too high in featherd state, |
| Hinderd the fair to pass the lowest gate; |
| A church to enter
now, they must be bent, |
| If ever they should try the experiment. |
| As change thus circulates throughout
the nation, |
| Some plays may justly call for alteration; |
| At least to draw some slender covering oer, |
| That
graceless wit1 which was too bare before: |
| Those writers well and wisely use their pens, |
| Who turn our
wantons into Magdalens; |
| And howsoever wicked wits revile em, |
| We hope to find in you their stage asylum. |