ON A CORKSCREW

Though I, alas! a prisoner be,
My trade is prisoners to set free. 
No slave his lord’s commands obeys
With such insinuating ways. 
My genius piercing, sharp, and bright,
Wherein the men of wit delight. 
The clergy keep me for their ease,
And turn and wind me as they please. 
A new and wondrous art I show
Of raising spirits from below;
In scarlet some, and some in white;
They rise, walk round, yet never fright. 
In at each mouth the spirits pass,
Distinctly seen as through a glass: 
O’er head and body make a rout,
And drive at last all secrets out;
And still, the more I show my art,
The more they open every heart. 
  A greater chemist none than I
Who, from materials hard and dry,
Have taught men to extract with skill
More precious juice than from a still. 
  Although I’m often out of case,
I’m not ashamed to show my face. 
Though at the tables of the great
I near the sideboard take my seat;
Yet the plain ’squire, when dinner’s done,
Is never pleased till I make one;
He kindly bids me near him stand,
And often takes me by the hand. 
  I twice a-day a-hunting go;
Nor ever fail to seize my foe;
And when I have him by the poll,
I drag him upwards from his hole;
Though some are of so stubborn kind,
I’m forced to leave a limb behind. 
  I hourly wait some fatal end;
For I can break, but scorn to bend.

THE GULF OF ALL HUMAN POSSESSIONS 1724

Come hither, and behold the fruits,
Vain man! of all thy vain pursuits. 
Take wise advice, and look behind,
Bring all past actions to thy mind. 
Here you may see, as in a glass,
How soon all human pleasures pass;
How will it mortify thy pride,
To turn the true impartial side! 
How will your eyes contain their tears,
When all the sad reverse appears! 
  This cave within its womb confines
The last result of all designs: 
Here lie deposited the spoils
Of busy mortals’ endless toils: 
Here, with an easy search, we find
The foul corruptions of mankind. 
The wretched purchase here behold
Of traitors, who their country sold. 
  This gulf insatiate imbibes
The lawyer’s fees, the statesman’s bribes. 
Here, in their proper shape and mien,
Fraud, perjury, and guilt are seen. 
Necessity, the tyrant’s law,
All human race must hither draw;
All prompted by the same desire,
The vigorous youth and aged sire. 
Behold the coward and the brave,
The haughty prince, the humble slave,
Physician, lawyer, and divine,
All make oblations at this shrine. 
Some enter boldly, some by stealth,
And leave behind their fruitless wealth. 
For, while the bashful sylvan maid,
As half-ashamed and half-afraid,
Approaching finds it hard to part