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, wheresoe’er you’re 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 ran great hazard if they stole a kiss. One chaste salute!—the damsel cried—Oh, fie! As they approach’d—slap went the coach awry— Poor Sylvia got a bump, and Damon a black eye.