Summarise in not more than 50 words on the poem The Splendid Shilling
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Happy the Man, who void of Cares and Strife,
In Silken or in Leathern Purse retains
A splendid Shilling: he nor hears with pain
New Oysters cry'd, nor sighs for cheerful Ale;
But with his Friends, when nightly Mists arise,
To Juniper's, or Magpye, or Town-Hall repairs:
Where mindful of the Nymph, whose wanton Eye
Transfix'd his Soul, and kindled Amorous Flames,
Chloe or Phillis; he each Circling Glass
Wisheth her Health, and Joy, and equal Love.
Mean while he Smoaks, and Laughs at merry Tale,
Or Pun ambiguous, or Conundrum quaint.
But I whom griping Penury surrounds,
And Hunger, sure Attendant upon Want,
With scanty Offals, and small acid Tiff
(Wretched Repast) my meager Corps sustain:
Then Solitary walk, or doze at home
In Garret vile, and with a warming puff
Regale chill'd Fingers, or from Tube as black
As Winter's Chimney, or well-polish'd Jett,
Exhale Mundungus, ill-perfuming Smoak.
Not blacker Tube, nor of a shorter Size
Smoaks Cambro-Britain (vers'd in Pedigree,
Sprung from Cadwalader and Arthur, ancient Kings,
Full famous in Romantick tale) when he
O're many a craggy Hill, and fruitless Cliff,
Upon a Cargo of fam'd Cestrian Cheese,
High over-shadowing rides, with a design
To vend his Wares, or at the Arvonian Mart,
Or Maridunum, or the ancient Town
Hight Morgannumia, or where Vaga's Stream
Encircles Ariconium, fruitful Soil,
Whence flow Nectareous Wines, that well may vye
With Massic, Setian, or Renown'd Falern.
Thus while my joyless Hours I lingring spend,
With Looks demure, and silent pace a Dunn,
Horrible Monster! hated by Gods and Men,
To my aerial Citadel ascends;
With Vocal Heel thrice Thund'ring at my Gates,
With hideous Accent thrice he calls; I know
The Voice ill boding, and the solemn Sound;
What shou'd I do, or whither turn? amaz'd,
Confounded, to the dark Recess I fly
Of Woodhole; straight my bristling Hairs erect,
My Tongue forgets her Faculty of Speech,
So horrible he seems; his faded Brow
Entrench'd with many a Frown, and conic Beard,
And spreading Band admir'd by Modern Saint
Disastrous Acts forebode; in his Right hand
Long Scrolls of Paper solemnly he waves,
With Characters and Figures dire inscribed
Grievous to mortal Eye, (ye Gods avert
Such plagues from righteous men) behind him stalks
Another Monster, not unlike himself,
Of Aspect sullen, by the Vulgar called
A Catchpole, whose polluted hands the Gods
With Force incredible, and Magic Charms
Erst have indu'd, if he his ample Palm
Should haply on ill-fated Shoulder lay
Of Debtor, straight his Body to the touch
Obsequious (as Whilom Knights were wont)
To some enchanted Castle is convey'd,
Where Gates impregnable, and coercive Charms
In durance vile detain him, till in form
Of Money, Pallas set the Captive free.
Beware, ye Debtors, when ye walk, beware,
Be circumspect; oft with insidious Ken,
This Caitiff eyes your steps aloof, and oft
Lies perdue in a Creek or gloomy Cave,
Prompt to enchant some inadvertent wretch
With his unhallow'd Touch. So (Poets sing)
Grimalkin to Domestick Vermin sworn
An everlasting Foe, with watchful eye,
Lyes nightly brooding ore a chinky gap,
Protending her fell claws, to thoughtless Mice
Sure Ruin. So her disembowell'd Web
The Spider in a Hall or Kitchin spreads,
Obvious to vagrant Flies: she secret stands
Within her woven Cell; the Humming Prey
Regardless of their Fate, rush on the toils
Inextricable, nor will ought avail
Their Arts nor Arms, nor Shapes of lovely Hue,
The Wasp insidious, and the buzzing Drone,
And Butterfly proud of expanded wings
Distinct with Gold, entangled in her Snares,
Useless resistance make: with eager strides,
She tow'ring flies to her expected Spoils;
Then with envenom'd Jaws the vital Blood
Drinks of reluctant Foes, and to her Cave
Their bulky Carcasses triumphant drags.
Thus do I live from Pleasure quite debarr'd,
Nor tast the Fruits that the Sun's genial Rays
Mature, John-apple nor the Downy Peach,
Nor Walnut in rough-furrow'd Coat secure,
Nor Medlar Fruit delicious in decay;
Afflictions great, yet greater still remain,
My Galligaskins that have long withstood
The Winter's Fury, and encroaching Frosts,
By time subdu'd, (what will not time subdue!)
A horrid Chasm disclose, with Orifice
Wide discontinuous; at which the Winds
Eurus and Auster, and the dreadful force
Of Boreas, that congeals the Cronian Waves,
Tumultuous enter with dire chilling Blasts,
Portending Agues. Thus a well-fraught Ship
Long sail'd secure, or through a Egean Deep,
Or the Ionian, till Crusing near
The Lilybean Shoar, with hideous Crush
On Scylla or Charibdis dangerous Rocks
She strikes rebounding, whence the shatter'd Oak,
So fierce a Shock unable to withstand,
Admits the Sea, in at the gaping Side,
The crouding Waves gush with impetuous Rage
Resistless overwhelming; Horrors seize
The Mariners, Death in their eyes appears,
They stare, they lave, they pump, they swear, they pray:
Vain Efforts, still the battering Waves rush in
Implacable, till delug'd by the foam,
The Ship sinks found'ring in the vast Abyss.