# The Lamp-Lighter's POEM,
HUMBLY PRESENTED TO ALL HIS
Worthy Mafters and Miftreffes.

Compofed by a LAMP-LIGHTER.

IN fummer time when Phæbus, ever bright,
Difplays around his all refulgent light,
Each ſcene is charming, nature all is gay,
And ſport and pleafure crown the happy day;
Each leaves the town to tread the rural plains,
And ſhare the raptures of the nymphs and ſwains;
Night and its ſifter darkneſs is unknown,
Either on rufuſt glens, or buſſling town;
For then the twilight ſuchs her ſober ray,
And beams leſs fervid make a ſeconſ day:
No ſculking villains then you need to dread,
While light by nature is around you ſpread.
'Tis then the Lamp-lighter's unbappy lot,
Becauſe not wanted, to be quite forgot:
Should he repine, alas it is in vain!
'Tis to no purpofe that he does complain.
But when the fummer and the autumns gone,
And furly Winter with his blaſts comes on,
Sharp thro' the hawthorn bluſtering Boreas blows,
And buſſling clouds are big with fleecy ſnows;
When pools and purling ſtreams no longer run,
Cheered by the all reviving heat of fun,
But bound in icy chains, are heard no more,
And every proper ſound is chill and froz'e;
Then bare and leafleſs all appear the trees,
And the mute warblers can no longer pleafe;
The plains deferted, and the gay and fair
For other pleafures quick to town repair.

'Tis then the Lamp-lighter renews his toil,
And trims the cotton, and pours in the oil;
Clean keeps the globe, like chryſtal to the eye,
The ſhort-liv'd light of Phæbus to supply:
Or when fair Cythia hides her ſilver head,
And all the twinkling ſtars are gone to bed,
'Tis then the lamp muſt yield its cheerful ray,
And ſpread around an artificial day.
The darkling night is banifh'd with the glow,
Which radiant lamps to all alike beſtow.
Happy invention! happy be the man
Who firſt contriv'd the wide extending plan.
*London*, the firſt of cities, firſt in fame,
The firſt adoption of ſure muſt claim.

Yes, London, great alike in arts and trade,
This bleſſing to her crouded ſtreets diſplay'd;
Quick thro' the land immediately it ran,
And every city followed ſoon the plan;
And every town of note in every ſire
The mode of lamp-lighting did ſoon acquire.

A word or two now let your lamp-man ſay,
Whofe toil muſt all this brilliancy diſplay;
He, as in duty bound, muſt mind his work,
His labour as hard as any galley Turk:
Soon as the morn appears he muſt arife,
Tho' ſhort his reſt, yet he muſt that deſpife,
To trim the wick, and rub the glaſſes dry,
Till they are bright and brilliant to the eye;
Then add of oil, what may the purpofe ſuit,
Before he lights them, as a freth recruit:
The evening comes, away again he flies,
And bids them blaze refulgent to the eyes;
And now perhaps you think his tafk is done;
That's a miſtake, for on he ſtill muſt run,
To fee if all burn clear; for ſome, no doubt,
Thro' miſly damps or winds will off be out;
And then thro' froſt or ſnow, or wind, or rain,
As duty calls, we light them up again.

In doing this what various ills await!
Alas! ſo many I cannot relate:
The rattling coach will oft impede our way;
The flippery pavement does our ſteps betray;
The falling ladder too comes tumbling down.
Perils like theſe to none but us are known.

Now Chriſtmas comes with plenty in the rear,
Roaſt beaſ, plumb pudding, and ſtout humming beer;
Happy you fit around the cheerful fire,
Poffeſling every thing you can deſire.
Then while we face every bluſſ'ring ſtorm and wind,
O keep the induſtrious lamp-man in your mind:
And while you've peace and plenty thus in view,
Be kind, and then we ſhall partake it too.
In gratitude we then ſhall loudly ſing,
Health crown our maſters, and long live the King!

Printed and fold at No. 81, Shoe Lane, Fleet Street, where new Poem will be continued yearly, and Printing done in all its various Branches, on reasonable Terms.