ON THE CELLARS UNDER THE NEW-EXCHANGE.  

I Need no Genial Muse to call upon;  
A Cellar was the Muses Helicon:  
Verse under ground first learned to tread on Hoof,  
Swelling Parnassus was the natural Roof;  
The Sisters here first put on Soreing Wing,  
And in a Cave were first inspired to Sing;  
Those Earthen Walls their Secrets did enclose,  
To lofty Rhyme, subliming humble Prose.   

My thirsty Muse can't choose but make a halt,  
To Bathe our Genius at th' inspiring Vault,  
Where every Seats a several Muse's Throne,  
And every Hogshead a fresh Helicon.   

The New-Exchange, the Beauty of our Nation,  
A structure worthy of so rich Foundation;  
The World's great Warehouse, and may yet Engage  
With her Fair Sister, Envy of our Age.  
Thy Wealth above may serve to make a show;  
But Nature plants her Richest Pearls below,  
And all thy spacious Outside is no more,  
Than a Rich Cabinet to enclose the Store.  
The Riches which entombed within our Cell,  
Outvie the Ruby, and the Carbuncle:  
Here for small Cost you Treasure may have store,  
This oft makes Poor Men Rich, that Rich Men Poor;  
No Bankrupts here, whilst Faith does but remain,  
If Broke, next Sixpence sets him up again.   

Nature ordained us first in Caves to dwell,  
And Adam digged, to make his Eve a Cell:  
They knew no other Court: When Cain was cursed,  
He Built a City, and that was the first;  
The rest content with Nature's House, the Cell,  
In Holes, and Concaves of the Earth did dwell:  
Through Europe, Asia, and Black afric rig'd,  
No other Palaces but what they digged.  
O'er Spacious Vaults they their Foundations found;  
Faiths, in old Paul's, was planted under ground:  
A Thousand Danish Courts within this Isle,  
Do yet remain a Monumental Pile:  
Caves were the Thrones of Kings; he was the Slave,  
Who for a House exchanged his Princely Cave:  
The cynics Tub was but a Tanner's Pit,  
And an old Cask walled in its Guest, and it:  
High towers on Heaven were deemed but an Intrusion,  
And lofty Babel only brought Confusion.   

But this vast Work excels, and dare outvie,  
The proudest Structure that Invades the Sky.  
Had the great Queen beheld our Helicon,  
She'd blushed to see her tottering Babylon;  
More than its Rise, she'd glory in the Fall,  
And downwards hence Erect her Towers all.  
The highest Pyramids their Cells possessed,  
And Cellars are but Palaces transverst;  
The lower the Foundation sinks, the higher  
The Structures vast Circumference does aspire:  
Here Stories do descend from Floor to Floor,  
And sinking deeper, adds a Story more.  
Thus the vast Work increaseth every day,  
And does enlarge by what they take away:  
As Hollanders encroaching on the Main,  
The more they shuffle out, the more they gain.   

As if kind Art with Nature did compound,  
To hid her Richest Treasure under ground:  
In the first Room seven Sisters Fair abide,  
As Bacchus with Minerva were allied:  
The Liberal Arts their Beauties there display,  
Making the Guests as Liberal as they.  
Grammar denys to speak incongruous there,  
And Lady Music holds them by the Ear;  
Dame Geometry learns how to clear the Cost,  
And Numbers not to reckon before Host;  
Madam Astronomy, the Starry Dame,  
By Stars reflect, makes day and night the same;  
The Argument close-fisted Logic opes,  
And Rhetoric speaks nothing but in Tropes.  
Who thus enthroned amongst the Sisters sits,  
Are Vertuoso's, and may pass for Wits;  
And he that drinking learns the best, may be  
A Royal Member o'th' Society.   

Next over head the Elements appear,  
Each by Apartment in his proper Sphere;  
As if wise Nature, that foresee the dark  
Designs of Fate (like Noah in the Ark,)  
After so lively, and Mysterious fashion,  
Preserved 'em here against a new Creation.   

Within the next Division you may see,  
The Scenes of Landcips, Prospects, Husbandry;  
One with a Spade, another with a Hook,  
You'd think the Picture sweat, with pains they took.  
The Fruit so lively does adorn the Trees,  
It cheats the Birds, and we are caught by these;  
One by the Fowler Shot, so plump did fall,  
I run to take it up, and catched the Wall;  
Another scattered from the Flock, by th' Tail,  
I thought had dropped into a Milkmaids Pail;  
I'd snatched it thence, but only to be Just,  
I learned it there, Weaving my Truth with Trust.   

I pass the rest, the Stare-case and the Seats,  
And now my Muse into the Vault retreats.  
The Vault, that Artificial Arbour, where  
The Vine, and grabe's in season all the Year;  
So full and plump they look, I've seen 'em scrape  
The Sapless Sieling, hoping for the Grape.  
And many who Commend, and Flock to see  
The rich Adornment of the Pillory,  
From Islington and Hamsted quit their Gate,  
To see the Rat, and Baker hang in State.   

On th' other end you may behold the Doom  
Of all the Caesars, and the state of Rome;  
In Charcoal-work old Rome so much surpasses,  
Like a new Phoenix sprung from her own Ashes.  
The mighty Capitol in Charcoal Over,  
More glorious in the shadow, than before;  
And all the Structures, and the Hero's round,  
In Sable Dust of their own Ruins Crowned:  
Such had proud Nero but beheld, his Fame  
Would not commend his Building, but the Flame,  
That by Mysterious Pencil, we at home  
Should from her Ashes raise a braver Room;  
And Furies for this Cause his Tomb would range;  
Because his Rome falls short of our Exchange.   

But to refresh, my thirsty Muse is gone,  
To the Rich Fountains of her Helicon,  
Who in a Cellar lives, or dies in Cave,  
Hath found at once a Lodging, and a Grave.    

London, Printed by T. Ratcliff and N. Thompson, Anno Dom. MDCLXXV.