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| author | Roger Frank <rfrank@pglaf.org> | 2025-10-14 19:57:19 -0700 |
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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6833f05 --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,3 @@ +* text=auto +*.txt text +*.md text diff --git a/32276-0.txt b/32276-0.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..ac564fa --- /dev/null +++ b/32276-0.txt @@ -0,0 +1,1272 @@ +The Project Gutenberg eBook, Poetical Works, by James Parkerson + + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + + + + +Title: Poetical Works + comprising Elegies, Sketches from Life, Pathetic, and Extempore Pieces + + +Author: James Parkerson + + + +Release Date: May 6, 2010 [eBook #32276] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: UTF-8 + + +***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK POETICAL WORKS*** + + +Transcribed from the early 1800’s copy by David Price, email +ccx074@pglaf.org. Many thanks to Norfolk and Norwich Millennium Library, +UK, for kindly supplying the images from which this transcription was +made. + + + + + + POETICAL WORKS, + _BY J. PARKERSON_, _Jun._ + + + COMPRISING + Elegies, Sketches from Life, + PATHETIC, + + AND + _EXTEMPORE PIECES_. + + * * * * * + + PRICE ONE SHILLING. + + * * * * * + + _NORWICH_: + + PRINTED AND SOLD BY LANE AND WALKER, + ST. ANDREW’S. + + SOLD ALSO BY THE AUTHOR; CROSBY AND CO. + W. BAYNES, LONDON; GOOCH, YARMOUTH; + AND ALL OTHER BOOKSELLERS. + + + + +THE BANKRUPT. + + + Oft have you pray’d me, when in youth, + Never to err from paths of truth; + But youth to vice is much too prone, + And mine by far too much, I own. + Induced to riot, swear, and game, + I thought in vice t’acquire fame; + But found the pois’ning scenes of riot + Soon robb’d my mind of joy and quiet. + The usual course of rakes I ran, + The dupe of woman and of man. + Careless of fortune’s smile or frown, + My desk I left t’enjoy the town, + At folly dash’d in wisdom’s spite, + Idled by day, revell’d by night: + But short was that delusive scene, + And I awoke to sorrow keen. + Debt press’d on debt: I could not pay, + And found that credit had its day. + No friend to aid, what should I do? + I made bad worse: to liquor flew: + For when my bill-book I survey’d, + I shrunk, as if I’d seen my shade; + And to drive terror from my mind, + Drank on, and care gave to the wind: + But wine nor words can charm away + The banker’s clerk who comes for pay. + Payment is press’d, the cash is gone: + Too late I cry, ‘what must be done?’ + Horrow! a docket struck appears: + I look aghast, my wife’s in tears. + The naked truth stares in my face, + And shows me more than one disgrace. + My keys a messenger demands; + While, as a culprit often stands, + The humbled bankrupt lowers his view, + And sees the law its work pursue. + Soon comes of all his goods, the sale; + Which, like light straw before a gale, + The hammer-man puffs clean away, + And cries, ‘they must be sold this day.’ + They are so, and I’ll tell you how: + At loss you’ll readily allow. + Then comes the tedious, humbling task, + To answer all commiss’ners ask; + And those who mean to act most fair, + Will at first meeting e’er appear, + To questions ask’d will answer true, + And clearly state accounts to view. + A second he need not attend, + But if not may perhaps offend. + Happy the man who then can lay + His hand upon his heart, and say, + ‘You all my books and deeds may scan + I’m honest, though distress’d man. + My own just wants, and losses great, + Have brought me to this low estate.’ + Then comes the last dread meeting on, + Dreadful to such as will act wrong, + And through dishonesty or shame + Evasive answers ’tempt to frame: + For vain his shifts; howe’er he try, + He can’t elude the searching eye + Of lawyers, who’ll in all things pry: + His private foibles e’en mast out— + Grievous exposure ’tis no doubt! + And if he’s fraudl’lent found, must go + To witness scenes of vice and woe; + Of liberty deprived, to wail + His faults and folly in a jail: + But should his conduct seem least fair, + England’s blest laws will set him clear; + Not only so, but means will give + T’enable him again to live: + For such the law, that when ’tis found + There’s fifteen shillings in the pound, + A handsome drawback he’s allow’d, + When, ’stead of shamed, he may look proud; + And be his div’dend e’er so low, + They’ll never let him coinless go. + Yes, be it e’er a Briton’s pride, + That mercy in his courts preside. + But e’er he’s paid, he must await + T’obtain a fair certificate. + Some cases there however are + Which, at first view, may seem severe; + Suppose his creditors are ten; + Four sign, the rest refuse: what then? + If their demand exceed the four + They’ll keep the bankrupt in their pow’r; + And although he has all resign’d, + If unproved debts remain behind, + Inhuman creditors then may + His body into prison lay, + Where oft the wretch, to sooth his grief, + In dissipation seeks relief. + Sometimes a parent may prevent + Unmeaningly the law’s intent; + And merc’less creditors decline + The hapless debtor’s deed to sign, + In hopes the father may one day + The long-neglected son’s debts pay. + The Lawyer and the Auctioneer, + Plunges all parties in despair; + When Creditors their bills do see, + Each sighing say nought’s left for me. + + + + +AN ADDRESS +TO THE +INSOLVENT. + + + Embarress’d man be just and true, + Insolvent acts releases you; + I mean your person from a jail, + Tho’ keen reproach the man assail. + Take my advice when e’er you find, + Misfortunes canker in your mind; + Resign your trade give up your store, + For going on will hurt you more. + When e’er you find you cannot pay, + Your trade give up without delay; + Too apt we are when cares oppress, + To liquor fly to make them less. + Many I fear from business stray, + Soon as they find they cannot pay; + Others to prisons frequent fly, + To waste their time in luxury. + Painful sensations are their doom, + When they behold a prison’s gloom; + Do not suppose I mean there are, + But few in prisons that act fair. + Yes, I should hope not one in ten, + Pursue a base ungenerous plan. + If it’s your fate to be confin’d, + Enter a jail with fervent mind; + To give up all were all is due, + And virtue’s course through life pursue. + Abstain from drinking, or you’ll find, + Doing such things disturb the mind; + Think of your wife and view the tear, + That start from her caus’d by despair. + A prison’s horrors shake her frame, + When she at entrance say her name; + Perhaps an infant in her arms, + Raise in your mind grief’s quick alarms. + Sometimes an aged father flies, + To see you there before he dies; + Likely a tender mother say, + My son I’ll see without delay. + Each brings affections sighs and tears, + With throbbing hearts and thousand fears; + Perhaps their little all they give, + That you from prison quickly live. + A brother comes a brother say, + I cannot from you keep away; + Take my last shilling I’ve no more, + You know the reason I am poor. + Let my forgiveness dry your tears, + And lull to rest a brother’s fears; + A tender sister, close the scene + Of anguish, grief, and sorrow keen; + She gives a sigh and said adieu, + And waft her blessings then on you. + Johnson who keeps the County Jail, + The captives fate he much bewail; + And tries the utmost in his power, + To soften each corroding hour, + Of those appointed to his care, + And lull to rest the mind’s despair. + Respect to all he daily pay, + While they the prison laws obey; + But if decorum’s rules they break, + Coercive steps he quickly take; + Till order is restor’d again, + And they from acting wrong refrain. + Each turnkey is a civil man, + And will oblige you if they can; + Yet faithful to their trust they are, + And will do nothing that’s unfair. + On City prison now I dwell, + The captives like their keeper well; + They say he’s kind to every man, + And ease their troubles all he can. + + + + +TO THE MEMORY +OF AN +AFFECTIONATE PARENT. + + + My pen cannot describe or tears convey, + The pangs I felt when late I bad farewell; + I view’d in death’s embrace a parent lay, + And heard the passing of the mournful bell. + + Nine month’s disease its ravages had made, + E’er death reliev’d her from all sufferings here; + I saw the Sexton with his Iron spade, + Mark out the spot, and place the gloomy bier. + + Affecting scene! while recollection last, + I’ll trace the parting of our sad adieu; + Dwell on those scenes that are for ever past, + Tho’ in my mind it troubles fresh renew. + + Just before death had wield the fatal blow, + That stops the power of utterance or sigh; + She with a voice angelic soft and low, + Cried, Lord! forgive me e’er my spirit fly. + + Oft have I seen my virtuous parent stray, + O’er her lov’d garden pensive and forlorn; + To cull the flowers each succeeding day, + And view the beauties of a summer’s morn. + + Scarce did the flower adorn the spot around, + But her hand planted in its proper place; + No fonder lover of those sweets were found, + While she their beauties in her mind cou’d trace. + + Three days before her suffering were o’er, + She crav’d assistance to her favourite spot; + And said my roses I shall see no more, + And when I’m absent they will be forgot. + + But for her sake a faithful servant toil, + To free the flowers from weeds from morn till night; + Or bring fresh water to the thirsty soil, + To that lov’d spot that gave her oft delight. + + Anticipation to the panting heart, + Convey’d the dread decree of fate’s ordain; + To say she must from earthly scenes depart, + And not to them for ever turn again, + + Meekness thro’ life had mark’d her for her care, + While resignation claim’d her for her own; + Sometimes her mind wou’d cheerful still appear, + And strive to stifle pain’s afflicting groan. + + Oh God! she cried, thy mercy let me crave, + Till life’s short span is taken quite away; + Then may I rest at peace within the grave, + To wait thy summons for the awful day. + + Scarce had religion brought sweet hope, to aid + The virtuous victim in the pangs of death; + When soft a guardian angel gently said, + You’ll dwell with me when time extinguish breath. + + A few short struggles and the scene was o’er, + Death with his victim flew above the skies; + I shall thro’ life her absence oft deplore, + Till recollection from my memory flies. + + The humble cottagers their Mistress bore, + To her cold home each face bedew’d with tears; + She to her mansion to return no more, + For death has silenc’d all her hopes and fears. + + Oh! had you seen my good and worthy sire, + In sorrow’s garment his last duty pay; + To her whose virtues did esteem acquire, + Or ease the troubles of a luckless day. + + Two sorrowing sons increas’d the gloomy day, + Who will while life remain her loss deplore; + Till recollection from them fade away, + Or erring mortals here do sin no more. + + Each little mourner drop’d affection’s tear, + When dust on dust the coffin hid from view; + Their youthful sighs denoted their despair, + When they of Grandma’ bid a long adieu. + + + + +THOUGHTS ON PASSING THROUGH +A +CHURCH-YARD. + + + I’ve pac’d the sacred yard, oh death! thy sting, + Expunge from earth the beggar and the king; + A marble monument, a stone foretell, + The characters below, here acted well: + Each grave a warning give, and yet we see, + Few strive to gain a bless’d eternity: + Kindred and neighbours with departing sigh, + Cry, write o’er me, ‘remember all must die!’ + Can we these warnings with indifferance view, + And still a life of guilt and sin pursue. + So frail our natures that at times we pray, + At church at morn, yet sin the after day; + Much shall we tremble, when the trumpets sound, + To call us to our God with Angels round. + There shall we tottering hear the just decree, + Of him alone, who can all spirits free: + How oft we find when sickness brings distress, + We wish our sufferings and our crimes were less; + It is our crimes that most our anguish brings, + And paint grim death, with all his bitter stings, + Then erring man if happiness you crave, + Repent and sin no more this side the grave. + + + + +ON THE DEATH +OF +MR. CHARLES SAVORY. + + + When fortune smil’d, his friendly care + Was to relieve distress; + And ease the wretched in dispair, + Or make their troubles less. + When to him misfortune stray’d, + No brothers gave relief; + To assist the man each seem’d afraid, + Or ease the brow of grief. + A trifling pittance neighbours say, + The elder B---r sent; + Not half enough in life’s decay, + To pay his nurse and rent. + From his misfortunes well its known, + Their anger did increase; + He wish’d his friend would make it known, + He died with all at peace. + Within the church beside his wife, + My friend’s remains are laid; + Remov’d from all the pangs of life, + Or B---s to upbraid. + Benevolence came forth with speed, + While pity went before; + Holding J. Barber’s hand to aid, + The man that’s now no more. + Oh Barber! such a heart as thine, + Are seldom found in man; + Thy generous deeds to endless time, + Will prove sweet comforts plan. + What proof thou gives of friendly care, + To take his orphan girl; + And dry the child’s fresh starting tear, + And from her grief to hurl. + Oh daughter of my late lov’d friend, + Religious guide pursue; + Till your last moments here do end, + Or tomb encompass you. + + + + +EPITAPH TO THE ABOVE. + + + Faithful in friendship kind to all, + The needy poor around; + And those who gave a friendly call, + A hearty welcome found. + + Deceit ne’er harbour’d in his breast, + Or flattery in his mind; + From troubles here he surely rest, + And hope forgiveness find. + + + + +THE +INJURED TO THE INJURER. + + + You vilest of the human race, + A traitorous fiend with double face; + A fawning sycophant from youth, + Who never spoke a word of truth: + Who shed thy tears like crocodile; + Apparent virtue prov’d all vile: + You ask’d for cash the other day; + And for your coach hire home to pay. + Poor needy wretch I lent you gold, + You in return my credit sold: + But vile ingrate, the world shall know, + You’ve prov’d my base ungenerous foe. + From watchmen who protect the laws, + Did I not screen you from their paws; + Said that at home I soon should be, + Soon as arriv’d you came to me. + Said that you wanted forty pounds, + You stamp’d, and swore, and struck the ground. + Tho’ press’d myself I lent it you, + With blessings on me bade adieu: + ’Twas Sunday night that we did part, + I thought ’twas with an honest heart; + You said my brothers here would be, + To lend me aid and set me free: + Instead of brothers, bailiffs came + To caption me and hurt my name. + They had a writ from Mr Blake, + My body into prison take; + Vile wretch you’ll have the public scorn, + To curse the day that you were born: + I’ll publish to the world your knavery, + And write my name the injur’d, SAVORY. + Interest leads mankind to stray, + From honesty both night and day; + When fortune smiles, friends we do meet, + That greet us kindly in the street; + But when they see us in distress, + You’ll frequent find their number less. + Too well I know this to be true, + And worthy neighbours so do you; + When you can spend a pound-note free, + A clever fellow you will be; + But when your purse is empty grown, + Those compliments from you are flown; + Its not dear sir I wish to see, + You at my house to dine and tea; + Do but just say you’ll to them roam, + They’ll say they cannot be at home. + + + + +ON THE DEATH +OF +LORD NELSON. + + + The fleets of haughty France and Spain, + No more will triumph on the main, + Though Nelson is no more: + Our hero’s blood was dearly bought; + To conquer them he bravely fought, + And died in vict’ry’s arms. + + ‘We’ll avenge his death,’ the seamen cry, + ‘We’ll fight, we’ll conquer, or we’ll die, + And will their force deride: + Our little ones shall lisp his name, + And to acquire a Nelson’s fame, + Will ever be their pride.’ + + Before cold death had closed his eyes, + Cover’d with wounds, the hero cries, + ‘Is victory our own?’ + ‘We’ve conquer’d,’ cried the valiant crew, + He smiling bade them all adieu, + And died without a groan. + + Yet, ere he flew, he did enquire, + How many ships were then on fire, + And others that had struck: + Well pleased the hero then was seen, + When told the number was fifteen; + For England was his care. + + Then with a bright benignant smile, + Inploring blessings on our isle, + Bade Collingwood adieu: + Oh, gracious God! my soul receive, + From troubles England quick relieve, + And peace again renew. + + Oh death! thy keen unwelcome blow, + Laid England’s darling bleeding low, + The hour he gain’d the day; + Soon as thy hand, had clos’d his eyes, + A beautious angel from the skies; + Flew with his soul away. + + To taste sweet joys beyond the grave, + That are allotted for the brave, + Who fall in victory’s arms: + Many a tar we hope to find, + Will prove he has the hero’s mind, + When signals raise alarms. + + + + +TRUTH. + + + The unsuspecting often meet deceit, + By fawning wretches that would kiss their feet; + Such is the case, that man to man you’ll see, + Would for a shilling a curs’d traitor be. + Too well I know by sad experience bought, + Man have by artful means my ruin sought; + And would have plung’d me in extreme distress, + To gain their aims, or make their troubles less. + Mankind sometimes will act a knavish part, + And unexpected use deceit and art. + The world is grown so fond of getting cash, + That for its sake they’ll do what’s base or rash: + Will make him drunk to gain a neighbour’s wife, + Forge a last will, or take away his life: + A rape commit and laws avenge defy, + Flog a poor boy, or tell a flagrant lye: + Oft have I seen a poor and friendless child, + Flog’d near to death and made by torments wild; + For faults so small that blame you cou’d not see, + Nor cou’d his Master mention them to me; + When I the monster did upbraid, he swore + Another time he’d give him ten times more. + Scenes such as these too often do appear, + And pity ’tis some punishments severe, + Was not inflicted on the sordid elf, + Either by hanging, or the loss of wealth. + + + + +BETSY’S TEARS, +A SONG. + + + Oh Betsy hide that starting tear, + That fain would speak distress; + A cherub’s aid will soon appear, + And make your sufferings less. + + You say no pity you can crave, + For misery here below; + Then rest your hopes beyond the grave, + Where God great mercy show. + + To every damsel in distress, + If penitents they prove; + He quickly make their sorrows less, + And send again his love. + + The villian that betray’d in youth, + An artless maid astray; + Was stranger to the love of truth, + Or what the scriptures say. + + An earthly guardian he was made, + By him that is no more; + He’ll find chastisement’s sharpen’d blade, + On him torments pour. + + No retribution he can make, + While on this earth he crawls; + God will speedy vengance take, + When he the reptile calls. + + + + +THE REPROACH. + + + Canst thou see my wasted frame, + And hear aloud sad Betsy’s name, + And still unmov’d remain; + Yes, thou canst hear it every day, + And to it oft attention pay: + Without a sigh or pain. + + But when ye do in heaven appear, + My Father’s spirit will be there; + And hear thy awful doom. + Thy soul will then tormented be, + For dealing so unjust with me; + Who wither’d ere my bloom. + + When virtuous souls are with the blest, + Thy guilty shade will find no rest; + But hurl’d to endless pain, + Were wicked man is made to know, + That Satan dealt the painful blow; + And will torment again. + + No wealth can lull to rest my fears, + Or time dry up my falling tears; + Till I from life am flown: + Then do I hope once more to see, + My parents both along with me; + And they their Betsy own. + + + + +ALBERT TO HANNAH. + + + I’ve read your letter o’er and o’er again, + Happy to find you faithful do remain, + Besides forgiveness; though too much I fear, + I long have made you victim to despair. + You say two years with fervency I strove + To keep affection, constancy, and love; + But soon as crosses came upon my mind, + Was careless of you, and appear’d unkind. + I knew my home was neat, serene, and nice; + But, ah! that home I lost, allured by vice. + Soon as you fled, a different scene in view, + Gone all attention soon as I lost you. + The quick retort was always in my ears, + You’ve drown’d a virtuous wife in sorrow’s tears. + Soon as I found all hopes to meet you fled, + I pray’d I might be number’d with the dead: + Oblivion’s aid I oft invok’d by drink, + I could not meditate nor dared to think. + You say it cost you tears to write to me, + But they’ll disperse when you a convert see. + Long I’ve invok’d a pardon from above, + To make me worthy of the wife I love: + Return, and till my days are at an end, + I’ll prove protector, guardian, and a friend. + The converse delicate, the smile sincere, + Will check the sigh, and stop the rising tear; + Cheerful as formerly we’ll pass our life, + A happy husband I, and you the wife. + + + + +ON SEEING AN AMIABLE WOMAN +DISTRESSED IN MIND. + + + Oh gracious God, her peace restore, + And make her sufferings less; + Let frenzied thoughts disturb no more, + Or sorrow on her press. + + Pour down thy blessings, on a mind + Encompass’d round by grief; + Let fortune smile and friends be kind, + To nature grant relief. + + ’Twas pure affection caus’d her tears, + And furrow’d beauty’s face; + But thou can lull to rest her fears, + By thy almighty grace. + + May guardian angels plant their seat, + Beside the lovely fair; + While hope and comfort frequent meet, + To keep her from despair. + + Tranquillity thou dove-ey’d maid, + A visit quickly pay; + Of virtue’s self, be not afraid, + Stay with her all the day. + + + + +A MOTHER’S ADDRESS TO THE DEITY. + + + Accept oh Lord! a mother’s prayer, + And shield my child from sickness here; + May Judah, ever constant prove + Herself deserving of thy love: + Sweet Robert in this vale of tears, + Survived with me three sickening years, + Before it was thy will to say, + He shall the debt of nature pay: + On lov’d Maria now I dwell, + My grief for her no pen can tell; + To spare a mother’s pangs she flew, + To thee, ere I cou’d say adieu! + The babe was not a year with me, + Ere angels wafted her to thee: + For Charlotte’s life, oh Lord! I pray, + And Robert’s too both night and day; + Should it be thy will to call + Them from my sight, I pray, that all + My children may obtain a rest, + Were souls are number’d with the blest. + Henry a mother’s last delight, + Improve O Lord, his health and sight, + That quick I find his strength increase, + My thanks to thee, shall never cease. + + + + +ON SEEING A YOUNG NOBLEMAN +IMPRISONED FOR DEBT. + + + The victim of sorrow with gloom on his mind, + Sighs for those pleasures he late left behind; + The bottle, the play-house, card-room and ball, + And the fine guilded chariot kept at the hall; + Enjoy’d but at night in dreams mix’d with sorrow, + That leaves the imprudent as hopeless to morrow. + With anguish he views his now alter’d state, + Laments his past folly but finds it too late; + His bottle companions in assistance will fail, + Soon as they hear he is plac’d in a jail: + Fair economy’s rules he brings to his view, + Determines in future her plans to pursue; + The downfal of life, oft the delicate kill, + By a strong dose of adversity’s pill; + Neglected in prison, yields up his life, + And leaves in despair his children and wife; + Oblig’d to return to her father’s once more, + Endeavours again her peace to restore; + Grief so harress’d once a heart blith and gay, + Death soon appear’d and took her quick away. + + + + +LIFE. + + + When e’er you walk the hill or street, + A flaunting dressing thing you’ll meet; + Her wanton air would fain beguile, + A thoughtless youth to stray awhile: + Her conversation gross he’ll find, + Chaste modesty she leaves behind; + That Goddess seldom now appear, + Where people walk to take the air. + She daily must in Laces dress, + Altho’ her parents in distress: + She’ll get them any way she can, + To marry some unthinking man. + When he the flaunter do obtain, + On pleasure’s wings she fix her brain; + His shirts or stockings she can’t mend, + But must them to a neighbour send; + And tells her husband, he must stray + With her to see a merry play. + He must comply, or else he’ll find + She teazes much his gloomy mind; + Often she does the man reproach, + Because he cannot keep a Coach: + Tells him she cannot rest at home, + And do with finer people roam; + The husband now alarm’d appears, + Too just his reason for his fears: + Truth silence now his sad alarms, + She’s fled into another’s arms. + Parents oft cause a girl’s distress, + By letting her devote to dress; + Time which they should frequent spend, + At house-work, or their clothes to mend: + A watch must now adorn the side, + To fill their minds with erring pride; + Tells her that every fop admire, + And soon she’ll gain a Country squire; + Again I say a boarding school, + Too often makes sweet Miss a fool; + Put such strange notions in her brain, + As she cannot good sense retain: + When Miss is taken from the school, + She wants in every thing to rule; + There she perhaps may learn to dance, + Alike the paltry things from France: + This plain truth I dare to tell, + But few from them correctly spell; + Too often write so bad a hand, + That scarce one line you understand; + Their education often makes, + Them only fit for lords or rakes. + To Miss and schools I bid adieu, + And will another tale pursue. + Many a tradesman in this place, + Brings on themselves their own disgrace; + Politics engross their mind, + And cause their friends to be unkind: + The horns anounce the papers in, + His daily pleasures now begin; + Two hours are wasted in this day, + Which time he should to business pay; + Customers too frequent call, + And cannot see the man at all: + Each one declares he’ll call no more, + As he had been there oft before. + No wonder that he cannot pay, + As thus he trifles time away: + We often do our fate bewail, + When adverse gales do us assail; + The money that we waste away, + Frequent we should to others pay; + Careless of our neighbours grief, + We only seek our own relief; + The cause we have such dismal times, + Is chiefly owing to our crimes. + The pipe and bottle frequent stay, + The man who should attention pay; + To business, or to any thing + Which may perhaps a profit bring; + Insteads of wine, drink humble ale, + Drop fine gigs thus ends my tale. + + + + +ON SEEING COLOURS CONSECRATED: +PRESENTED BY MRS. BERKLEY. + + + Berkley, the female champion of our cause, + While gratitude exists demands applause; + The morn was fine and pleasant was the scene, + The sons of Briton met on Writtle green: + To church repair’d with fervency and grace, + And loyalty appear’d on every face; + Prayers were read with energy and truth, + To give instructions to the British youth; + The same good order then was plainly seen, + When they return’d advancing to the green: + The line was form’d and music now begins, + To offer praises to the best of kings; + The Captain with due modesty and grace, + Marches the ensigns to their proper place. + With manners pleasing and with accents just, + The worthy fair one yields the sacred trust; + Speaks of their duty in the hour of strife, + Never to yield those colours but with life: + With manliness the Captain quick replies, + No man will yield them! madam, till he dies; + Ensigns receiv’d them from the Captain’s hand, + May God protect them ever in this land. + + FINIS. + + * * * * * + + LANE AND WALKER, PRINTERS. + + + + +***END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK POETICAL WORKS*** + + +******* This file should be named 32276-0.txt or 32276-0.zip ******* + + +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: +http://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/3/2/2/7/32276 + + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + + + + +Title: Poetical Works + comprising Elegies, Sketches from Life, Pathetic, and Extempore Pieces + + +Author: James Parkerson + + + +Release Date: May 6, 2010 [eBook #32276] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-646-US (US-ASCII) + + +***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK POETICAL WORKS*** +</pre> +<p>Transcribed from the early 1800’s copy by David Price, +email ccx074@pglaf.org. Many thanks to Norfolk and Norwich +Millennium Library, UK, for kindly supplying the images from +which this transcription was made.</p> +<h1>POETICAL WORKS,<br /> +<i>BY J. PARKERSON</i>, <i>Jun.</i></h1> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="smcap">comprising</span><br /> +Elegies, Sketches from Life,<br /> +PATHETIC,</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span class="smcap">and</span><br +/> +<i>EXTEMPORE PIECES</i>.</p> +<div class="gapshortdoubleline"> </div> +<p style="text-align: center">PRICE ONE SHILLING.</p> +<div class="gapshortdoubleline"> </div> +<p style="text-align: center"><i>NORWICH</i>:</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span class="smcap">printed and +sold by lane and walker</span>,<br /> +<span class="smcap">st. andrew’s</span>.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span class="smcap">sold also by +the author</span>; <span class="smcap">crosby and co.</span><br +/> +<span class="smcap">w. baynes</span>, <span +class="smcap">london</span>; <span class="smcap">gooch</span>, +<span class="smcap">yarmouth</span>;<br /> +<span class="smcap">and all other booksellers</span>.</p> +<h2><!-- page 3--><a name="page3"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +3</span>THE BANKRUPT.</h2> +<p class="poetry">Oft have you pray’d me, when in youth,<br +/> +Never to err from paths of truth;<br /> +But youth to vice is much too prone,<br /> +And mine by far too much, I own.<br /> +Induced to riot, swear, and game,<br /> +I thought in vice t’acquire fame;<br /> +But found the pois’ning scenes of riot<br /> +Soon robb’d my mind of joy and quiet.<br /> +The usual course of rakes I ran,<br /> +The dupe of woman and of man.<br /> +Careless of fortune’s smile or frown,<br /> +My desk I left t’enjoy the town,<br /> +At folly dash’d in wisdom’s spite,<br /> +Idled by day, revell’d by night:<br /> +But short was that delusive scene,<br /> +And I awoke to sorrow keen.<br /> +Debt press’d on debt: I could not pay,<br /> +And found that credit had its day.<br /> +No friend to aid, what should I do?<br /> +I made bad worse: to liquor flew:<br /> +<!-- page 4--><a name="page4"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +4</span>For when my bill-book I survey’d,<br /> +I shrunk, as if I’d seen my shade;<br /> +And to drive terror from my mind,<br /> +Drank on, and care gave to the wind:<br /> +But wine nor words can charm away<br /> +The banker’s clerk who comes for pay.<br /> +Payment is press’d, the cash is gone:<br /> +Too late I cry, ‘what must be done?’<br /> +Horrow! a docket struck appears:<br /> +I look aghast, my wife’s in tears.<br /> +The naked truth stares in my face,<br /> +And shows me more than one disgrace.<br /> +My keys a messenger demands;<br /> +While, as a culprit often stands,<br /> +The humbled bankrupt lowers his view,<br /> +And sees the law its work pursue.<br /> +Soon comes of all his goods, the sale;<br /> +Which, like light straw before a gale,<br /> +The hammer-man puffs clean away,<br /> +And cries, ‘they must be sold this day.’<br /> +They are so, and I’ll tell you how:<br /> +At loss you’ll readily allow.<br /> +Then comes the tedious, humbling task,<br /> +To answer all commiss’ners ask;<br /> +And those who mean to act most fair,<br /> +Will at first meeting e’er appear,<br /> +To questions ask’d will answer true,<br /> +And clearly state accounts to view.<br /> +<!-- page 5--><a name="page5"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +5</span>A second he need not attend,<br /> +But if not may perhaps offend.<br /> +Happy the man who then can lay<br /> +His hand upon his heart, and say,<br /> +‘You all my books and deeds may scan<br /> +I’m honest, though distress’d man.<br /> +My own just wants, and losses great,<br /> +Have brought me to this low estate.’<br /> +Then comes the last dread meeting on,<br /> +Dreadful to such as will act wrong,<br /> +And through dishonesty or shame<br /> +Evasive answers ’tempt to frame:<br /> +For vain his shifts; howe’er he try,<br /> +He can’t elude the searching eye<br /> +Of lawyers, who’ll in all things pry:<br /> +His private foibles e’en mast out—<br /> +Grievous exposure ’tis no doubt!<br /> +And if he’s fraudl’lent found, must go<br /> +To witness scenes of vice and woe;<br /> +Of liberty deprived, to wail<br /> +His faults and folly in a jail:<br /> +But should his conduct seem least fair,<br /> +England’s blest laws will set him clear;<br /> +Not only so, but means will give<br /> +T’enable him again to live:<br /> +For such the law, that when ’tis found<br /> +There’s fifteen shillings in the pound,<br /> +A handsome drawback he’s allow’d,<br /> +When, ’stead of shamed, he may look proud;<br /> +<!-- page 6--><a name="page6"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +6</span>And be his div’dend e’er so low,<br /> +They’ll never let him coinless go.<br /> +Yes, be it e’er a Briton’s pride,<br /> +That mercy in his courts preside.<br /> +But e’er he’s paid, he must await<br /> +T’obtain a fair certificate.<br /> +Some cases there however are<br /> +Which, at first view, may seem severe;<br /> +Suppose his creditors are ten;<br /> +Four sign, the rest refuse: what then?<br /> +If their demand exceed the four<br /> +They’ll keep the bankrupt in their pow’r;<br /> +And although he has all resign’d,<br /> +If unproved debts remain behind,<br /> +Inhuman creditors then may<br /> +His body into prison lay,<br /> +Where oft the wretch, to sooth his grief,<br /> +In dissipation seeks relief.<br /> +Sometimes a parent may prevent<br /> +Unmeaningly the law’s intent;<br /> +And merc’less creditors decline<br /> +The hapless debtor’s deed to sign,<br /> +In hopes the father may one day<br /> +The long-neglected son’s debts pay.<br /> +The Lawyer and the Auctioneer,<br /> +Plunges all parties in despair;<br /> +When Creditors their bills do see,<br /> +Each sighing say nought’s left for me.</p> +<h2><!-- page 7--><a name="page7"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +7</span><span class="smcap">an address</span><br /> +<span class="smcap">to the</span><br /> +INSOLVENT.</h2> +<p class="poetry">Embarress’d man be just and true,<br /> +Insolvent acts releases you;<br /> +I mean your person from a jail,<br /> +Tho’ keen reproach the man assail.<br /> +Take my advice when e’er you find,<br /> +Misfortunes canker in your mind;<br /> +Resign your trade give up your store,<br /> +For going on will hurt you more.<br /> +When e’er you find you cannot pay,<br /> +Your trade give up without delay;<br /> +Too apt we are when cares oppress,<br /> +To liquor fly to make them less.<br /> +Many I fear from business stray,<br /> +Soon as they find they cannot pay;<br /> +Others to prisons frequent fly,<br /> +To waste their time in luxury.<br /> +<!-- page 8--><a name="page8"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +8</span>Painful sensations are their doom,<br /> +When they behold a prison’s gloom;<br /> +Do not suppose I mean there are,<br /> +But few in prisons that act fair.<br /> +Yes, I should hope not one in ten,<br /> +Pursue a base ungenerous plan.<br /> +If it’s your fate to be confin’d,<br /> +Enter a jail with fervent mind;<br /> +To give up all were all is due,<br /> +And virtue’s course through life pursue.<br /> +Abstain from drinking, or you’ll find,<br /> +Doing such things disturb the mind;<br /> +Think of your wife and view the tear,<br /> +That start from her caus’d by despair.<br /> +A prison’s horrors shake her frame,<br /> +When she at entrance say her name;<br /> +Perhaps an infant in her arms,<br /> +Raise in your mind grief’s quick alarms.<br /> +Sometimes an aged father flies,<br /> +To see you there before he dies;<br /> +Likely a tender mother say,<br /> +My son I’ll see without delay.<br /> +Each brings affections sighs and tears,<br /> +With throbbing hearts and thousand fears;<br /> +Perhaps their little all they give,<br /> +That you from prison quickly live.<br /> +A brother comes a brother say,<br /> +I cannot from you keep away;<br /> +<!-- page 9--><a name="page9"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +9</span>Take my last shilling I’ve no more,<br /> +You know the reason I am poor.<br /> +Let my forgiveness dry your tears,<br /> +And lull to rest a brother’s fears;<br /> +A tender sister, close the scene<br /> +Of anguish, grief, and sorrow keen;<br /> +She gives a sigh and said adieu,<br /> +And waft her blessings then on you.<br /> +Johnson who keeps the County Jail,<br /> +The captives fate he much bewail;<br /> +And tries the utmost in his power,<br /> +To soften each corroding hour,<br /> +Of those appointed to his care,<br /> +And lull to rest the mind’s despair.<br /> +Respect to all he daily pay,<br /> +While they the prison laws obey;<br /> +But if decorum’s rules they break,<br /> +Coercive steps he quickly take;<br /> +Till order is restor’d again,<br /> +And they from acting wrong refrain.<br /> +Each turnkey is a civil man,<br /> +And will oblige you if they can;<br /> +Yet faithful to their trust they are,<br /> +And will do nothing that’s unfair.<br /> +On City prison now I dwell,<br /> +The captives like their keeper well;<br /> +They say he’s kind to every man,<br /> +And ease their troubles all he can.</p> +<h2><!-- page 10--><a name="page10"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +10</span><span class="smcap">to the memory</span><br /> +<span class="smcap">of an</span><br /> +AFFECTIONATE PARENT.</h2> +<p class="poetry">My pen cannot describe or tears convey,<br /> +The pangs I felt when late I bad farewell;<br /> +I view’d in death’s embrace a parent lay,<br /> +And heard the passing of the mournful bell.</p> +<p class="poetry">Nine month’s disease its ravages had +made,<br /> +E’er death reliev’d her from all sufferings here;<br +/> +I saw the Sexton with his Iron spade,<br /> +Mark out the spot, and place the gloomy bier.</p> +<p class="poetry">Affecting scene! while recollection last,<br /> +I’ll trace the parting of our sad adieu;<br /> +Dwell on those scenes that are for ever past,<br /> +Tho’ in my mind it troubles fresh renew.</p> +<p class="poetry">Just before death had wield the fatal blow,<br +/> +That stops the power of utterance or sigh;<br /> +She with a voice angelic soft and low,<br /> +Cried, Lord! forgive me e’er my spirit fly.</p> +<p class="poetry">Oft have I seen my virtuous parent stray,<br /> +O’er her lov’d garden pensive and forlorn;<br /> +To cull the flowers each succeeding day,<br /> +And view the beauties of a summer’s morn.</p> +<p class="poetry"><!-- page 11--><a name="page11"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 11</span>Scarce did the flower adorn the spot +around,<br /> +But her hand planted in its proper place;<br /> +No fonder lover of those sweets were found,<br /> +While she their beauties in her mind cou’d trace.</p> +<p class="poetry">Three days before her suffering were +o’er,<br /> +She crav’d assistance to her favourite spot;<br /> +And said my roses I shall see no more,<br /> +And when I’m absent they will be forgot.</p> +<p class="poetry">But for her sake a faithful servant toil,<br /> +To free the flowers from weeds from morn till night;<br /> +Or bring fresh water to the thirsty soil,<br /> +To that lov’d spot that gave her oft delight.</p> +<p class="poetry">Anticipation to the panting heart,<br /> +Convey’d the dread decree of fate’s ordain;<br /> +To say she must from earthly scenes depart,<br /> +And not to them for ever turn again,</p> +<p class="poetry">Meekness thro’ life had mark’d her +for her care,<br /> +While resignation claim’d her for her own;<br /> +Sometimes her mind wou’d cheerful still appear,<br /> +And strive to stifle pain’s afflicting groan.</p> +<p class="poetry">Oh God! she cried, thy mercy let me crave,<br +/> +Till life’s short span is taken quite away;<br /> +Then may I rest at peace within the grave,<br /> +To wait thy summons for the awful day.</p> +<p class="poetry"><!-- page 12--><a name="page12"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 12</span>Scarce had religion brought sweet +hope, to aid<br /> +The virtuous victim in the pangs of death;<br /> +When soft a guardian angel gently said,<br /> +You’ll dwell with me when time extinguish breath.</p> +<p class="poetry">A few short struggles and the scene was +o’er,<br /> +Death with his victim flew above the skies;<br /> +I shall thro’ life her absence oft deplore,<br /> +Till recollection from my memory flies.</p> +<p class="poetry">The humble cottagers their Mistress bore,<br /> +To her cold home each face bedew’d with tears;<br /> +She to her mansion to return no more,<br /> +For death has silenc’d all her hopes and fears.</p> +<p class="poetry">Oh! had you seen my good and worthy sire,<br /> +In sorrow’s garment his last duty pay;<br /> +To her whose virtues did esteem acquire,<br /> +Or ease the troubles of a luckless day.</p> +<p class="poetry">Two sorrowing sons increas’d the gloomy +day,<br /> +Who will while life remain her loss deplore;<br /> +Till recollection from them fade away,<br /> +Or erring mortals here do sin no more.</p> +<p class="poetry">Each little mourner drop’d +affection’s tear,<br /> +When dust on dust the coffin hid from view;<br /> +Their youthful sighs denoted their despair,<br /> +When they of Grandma’ bid a long adieu.</p> +<h2><!-- page 13--><a name="page13"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +13</span><span class="smcap">thoughts on passing +through</span><br /> +<span class="smcap">a</span><br /> +CHURCH-YARD.</h2> +<p class="poetry">I’ve pac’d the sacred yard, oh +death! thy sting,<br /> +Expunge from earth the beggar and the king;<br /> +A marble monument, a stone foretell,<br /> +The characters below, here acted well:<br /> +Each grave a warning give, and yet we see,<br /> +Few strive to gain a bless’d eternity:<br /> +Kindred and neighbours with departing sigh,<br /> +Cry, write o’er me, ‘remember all must die!’<br +/> +Can we these warnings with indifferance view,<br /> +And still a life of guilt and sin pursue.<br /> +So frail our natures that at times we pray,<br /> +At church at morn, yet sin the after day;<br /> +Much shall we tremble, when the trumpets sound,<br /> +To call us to our God with Angels round.<br /> +There shall we tottering hear the just decree,<br /> +Of him alone, who can all spirits free:<br /> +How oft we find when sickness brings distress,<br /> +We wish our sufferings and our crimes were less;<br /> +It is our crimes that most our anguish brings,<br /> +And paint grim death, with all his bitter stings,<br /> +Then erring man if happiness you crave,<br /> +Repent and sin no more this side the grave.</p> +<h2><!-- page 14--><a name="page14"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +14</span><span class="smcap">on the death</span><br /> +<span class="smcap">of</span><br /> +MR. CHARLES SAVORY.</h2> +<p class="poetry">When fortune smil’d, his friendly care<br +/> + Was to relieve distress;<br /> +And ease the wretched in dispair,<br /> + Or make their troubles less.<br /> +When to him misfortune stray’d,<br /> + No brothers gave relief;<br /> +To assist the man each seem’d afraid,<br /> + Or ease the brow of grief.<br /> +A trifling pittance neighbours say,<br /> + The elder B---r sent;<br /> +Not half enough in life’s decay,<br /> + To pay his nurse and rent.<br /> +From his misfortunes well its known,<br /> + Their anger did increase;<br /> +He wish’d his friend would make it known,<br /> + He died with all at peace.<br /> +Within the church beside his wife,<br /> + My friend’s remains are laid;<br /> +Remov’d from all the pangs of life,<br /> + Or B---s to upbraid.<br /> +Benevolence came forth with speed,<br /> + While pity went before;<br /> +Holding J. Barber’s hand to aid,<br /> + The man that’s now no more.<br /> +<!-- page 15--><a name="page15"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +15</span>Oh Barber! such a heart as thine,<br /> + Are seldom found in man;<br /> +Thy generous deeds to endless time,<br /> + Will prove sweet comforts plan.<br /> +What proof thou gives of friendly care,<br /> + To take his orphan girl;<br /> +And dry the child’s fresh starting tear,<br /> + And from her grief to hurl.<br /> +Oh daughter of my late lov’d friend,<br /> + Religious guide pursue;<br /> +Till your last moments here do end,<br /> + Or tomb encompass you.</p> +<h2>EPITAPH TO THE ABOVE.</h2> +<p class="poetry">Faithful in friendship kind to all,<br /> + The needy poor around;<br /> +And those who gave a friendly call,<br /> + A hearty welcome found.</p> +<p class="poetry">Deceit ne’er harbour’d in his +breast,<br /> + Or flattery in his mind;<br /> +From troubles here he surely rest,<br /> + And hope forgiveness find.</p> +<h2><!-- page 16--><a name="page16"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +16</span><span class="smcap">the</span><br /> +INJURED <span class="smcap">to the</span> INJURER.</h2> +<p class="poetry">You vilest of the human race,<br /> +A traitorous fiend with double face;<br /> +A fawning sycophant from youth,<br /> +Who never spoke a word of truth:<br /> +Who shed thy tears like crocodile;<br /> +Apparent virtue prov’d all vile:<br /> +You ask’d for cash the other day;<br /> +And for your coach hire home to pay.<br /> +Poor needy wretch I lent you gold,<br /> +You in return my credit sold:<br /> +But vile ingrate, the world shall know,<br /> +You’ve prov’d my base ungenerous foe.<br /> +From watchmen who protect the laws,<br /> +Did I not screen you from their paws;<br /> +Said that at home I soon should be,<br /> +Soon as arriv’d you came to me.<br /> +Said that you wanted forty pounds,<br /> +You stamp’d, and swore, and struck the ground.<br /> +Tho’ press’d myself I lent it you,<br /> +With blessings on me bade adieu:<br /> +’Twas Sunday night that we did part,<br /> +I thought ’twas with an honest heart;<br /> +You said my brothers here would be,<br /> +To lend me aid and set me free:<br /> +<!-- page 17--><a name="page17"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +17</span>Instead of brothers, bailiffs came<br /> +To caption me and hurt my name.<br /> +They had a writ from Mr Blake,<br /> +My body into prison take;<br /> +Vile wretch you’ll have the public scorn,<br /> +To curse the day that you were born:<br /> +I’ll publish to the world your knavery,<br /> +And write my name the injur’d, <span +class="smcap">Savory</span>.<br /> +Interest leads mankind to stray,<br /> +From honesty both night and day;<br /> +When fortune smiles, friends we do meet,<br /> +That greet us kindly in the street;<br /> +But when they see us in distress,<br /> +You’ll frequent find their number less.<br /> +Too well I know this to be true,<br /> +And worthy neighbours so do you;<br /> +When you can spend a pound-note free,<br /> +A clever fellow you will be;<br /> +But when your purse is empty grown,<br /> +Those compliments from you are flown;<br /> +Its not dear sir I wish to see,<br /> +You at my house to dine and tea;<br /> +Do but just say you’ll to them roam,<br /> +They’ll say they cannot be at home.</p> +<h2><!-- page 18--><a name="page18"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +18</span><span class="smcap">on the death</span><br /> +<span class="smcap">of</span><br /> +LORD NELSON.</h2> +<p class="poetry">The fleets of haughty France and Spain,<br /> +No more will triumph on the main,<br /> + Though Nelson is no more:<br /> +Our hero’s blood was dearly bought;<br /> +To conquer them he bravely fought,<br /> + And died in vict’ry’s +arms.</p> +<p class="poetry">‘We’ll avenge his death,’ the +seamen cry,<br /> +‘We’ll fight, we’ll conquer, or we’ll +die,<br /> + And will their force deride:<br /> +Our little ones shall lisp his name,<br /> +And to acquire a Nelson’s fame,<br /> + Will ever be their +pride.’</p> +<p class="poetry">Before cold death had closed his eyes,<br /> +Cover’d with wounds, the hero cries,<br /> + ‘Is victory our +own?’<br /> +‘We’ve conquer’d,’ cried the valiant +crew,<br /> +He smiling bade them all adieu,<br /> + And died without a groan.</p> +<p class="poetry"><!-- page 19--><a name="page19"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 19</span>Yet, ere he flew, he did enquire,<br +/> +How many ships were then on fire,<br /> + And others that had struck:<br /> +Well pleased the hero then was seen,<br /> +When told the number was fifteen;<br /> + For England was his care.</p> +<p class="poetry">Then with a bright benignant smile,<br /> +Inploring blessings on our isle,<br /> + Bade Collingwood adieu:<br /> +Oh, gracious God! my soul receive,<br /> +From troubles England quick relieve,<br /> + And peace again renew.</p> +<p class="poetry">Oh death! thy keen unwelcome blow,<br /> +Laid England’s darling bleeding low,<br /> + The hour he gain’d the +day;<br /> +Soon as thy hand, had clos’d his eyes,<br /> +A beautious angel from the skies;<br /> + Flew with his soul away.</p> +<p class="poetry">To taste sweet joys beyond the grave,<br /> +That are allotted for the brave,<br /> + Who fall in victory’s +arms:<br /> +Many a tar we hope to find,<br /> +Will prove he has the hero’s mind,<br /> + When signals raise alarms.</p> +<h2><!-- page 20--><a name="page20"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +20</span>TRUTH.</h2> +<p class="poetry">The unsuspecting often meet deceit,<br /> +By fawning wretches that would kiss their feet;<br /> +Such is the case, that man to man you’ll see,<br /> +Would for a shilling a curs’d traitor be.<br /> +Too well I know by sad experience bought,<br /> +Man have by artful means my ruin sought;<br /> +And would have plung’d me in extreme distress,<br /> +To gain their aims, or make their troubles less.<br /> +Mankind sometimes will act a knavish part,<br /> +And unexpected use deceit and art.<br /> +The world is grown so fond of getting cash,<br /> +That for its sake they’ll do what’s base or rash:<br +/> +Will make him drunk to gain a neighbour’s wife,<br /> +Forge a last will, or take away his life:<br /> +A rape commit and laws avenge defy,<br /> +Flog a poor boy, or tell a flagrant lye:<br /> +Oft have I seen a poor and friendless child,<br /> +Flog’d near to death and made by torments wild;<br /> +For faults so small that blame you cou’d not see,<br /> +Nor cou’d his Master mention them to me;<br /> +When I the monster did upbraid, he swore<br /> +Another time he’d give him ten times more.<br /> +Scenes such as these too often do appear,<br /> +And pity ’tis some punishments severe,<br /> +Was not inflicted on the sordid elf,<br /> +Either by hanging, or the loss of wealth.</p> +<h2><!-- page 21--><a name="page21"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +21</span>BETSY’S TEARS,<br /> +<span class="smcap">a song</span>.</h2> +<p class="poetry">Oh Betsy hide that starting tear,<br /> + That fain would speak distress;<br /> +A cherub’s aid will soon appear,<br /> + And make your sufferings less.</p> +<p class="poetry">You say no pity you can crave,<br /> + For misery here below;<br /> +Then rest your hopes beyond the grave,<br /> + Where God great mercy show.</p> +<p class="poetry">To every damsel in distress,<br /> + If penitents they prove;<br /> +He quickly make their sorrows less,<br /> + And send again his love.</p> +<p class="poetry">The villian that betray’d in youth,<br /> + An artless maid astray;<br /> +Was stranger to the love of truth,<br /> + Or what the scriptures say.</p> +<p class="poetry">An earthly guardian he was made,<br /> + By him that is no more;<br /> +He’ll find chastisement’s sharpen’d blade,<br +/> + On him torments pour.</p> +<p class="poetry">No retribution he can make,<br /> + While on this earth he crawls;<br /> +God will speedy vengance take,<br /> + When he the reptile calls.</p> +<h2><!-- page 22--><a name="page22"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +22</span>THE REPROACH.</h2> +<p class="poetry">Canst thou see my wasted frame,<br /> +And hear aloud sad Betsy’s name,<br /> + And still unmov’d remain;<br +/> +Yes, thou canst hear it every day,<br /> +And to it oft attention pay:<br /> + Without a sigh or pain.</p> +<p class="poetry">But when ye do in heaven appear,<br /> +My Father’s spirit will be there;<br /> + And hear thy awful doom.<br /> +Thy soul will then tormented be,<br /> +For dealing so unjust with me;<br /> + Who wither’d ere my +bloom.</p> +<p class="poetry">When virtuous souls are with the blest,<br /> +Thy guilty shade will find no rest;<br /> + But hurl’d to endless +pain,<br /> +Were wicked man is made to know,<br /> +That Satan dealt the painful blow;<br /> + And will torment again.</p> +<p class="poetry">No wealth can lull to rest my fears,<br /> +Or time dry up my falling tears;<br /> + Till I from life am flown:<br /> +Then do I hope once more to see,<br /> +My parents both along with me;<br /> + And they their Betsy own.</p> +<h2><!-- page 23--><a name="page23"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +23</span>ALBERT TO HANNAH.</h2> +<p class="poetry">I’ve read your letter o’er and +o’er again,<br /> +Happy to find you faithful do remain,<br /> +Besides forgiveness; though too much I fear,<br /> +I long have made you victim to despair.<br /> +You say two years with fervency I strove<br /> +To keep affection, constancy, and love;<br /> +But soon as crosses came upon my mind,<br /> +Was careless of you, and appear’d unkind.<br /> +I knew my home was neat, serene, and nice;<br /> +But, ah! that home I lost, allured by vice.<br /> +Soon as you fled, a different scene in view,<br /> +Gone all attention soon as I lost you.<br /> +The quick retort was always in my ears,<br /> +You’ve drown’d a virtuous wife in sorrow’s +tears.<br /> +Soon as I found all hopes to meet you fled,<br /> +I pray’d I might be number’d with the dead:<br /> +Oblivion’s aid I oft invok’d by drink,<br /> +I could not meditate nor dared to think.<br /> +You say it cost you tears to write to me,<br /> +But they’ll disperse when you a convert see.<br /> +Long I’ve invok’d a pardon from above,<br /> +To make me worthy of the wife I love:<br /> +Return, and till my days are at an end,<br /> +I’ll prove protector, guardian, and a friend.<br /> +The converse delicate, the smile sincere,<br /> +Will check the sigh, and stop the rising tear;<br /> +Cheerful as formerly we’ll pass our life,<br /> +A happy husband I, and you the wife.</p> +<h2><!-- page 24--><a name="page24"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +24</span>ON SEEING AN AMIABLE WOMAN<br /> +DISTRESSED IN MIND.</h2> +<p class="poetry">Oh gracious God, her peace restore,<br /> + And make her sufferings less;<br /> +Let frenzied thoughts disturb no more,<br /> + Or sorrow on her press.</p> +<p class="poetry">Pour down thy blessings, on a mind<br /> + Encompass’d round by grief;<br /> +Let fortune smile and friends be kind,<br /> + To nature grant relief.</p> +<p class="poetry">’Twas pure affection caus’d her +tears,<br /> + And furrow’d beauty’s face;<br /> +But thou can lull to rest her fears,<br /> + By thy almighty grace.</p> +<p class="poetry">May guardian angels plant their seat,<br /> + Beside the lovely fair;<br /> +While hope and comfort frequent meet,<br /> + To keep her from despair.</p> +<p class="poetry">Tranquillity thou dove-ey’d maid,<br /> + A visit quickly pay;<br /> +Of virtue’s self, be not afraid,<br /> + Stay with her all the day.</p> +<h2><!-- page 25--><a name="page25"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +25</span>A MOTHER’S ADDRESS TO THE DEITY.</h2> +<p class="poetry">Accept oh Lord! a mother’s prayer,<br /> +And shield my child from sickness here;<br /> +May Judah, ever constant prove<br /> +Herself deserving of thy love:<br /> +Sweet Robert in this vale of tears,<br /> +Survived with me three sickening years,<br /> +Before it was thy will to say,<br /> +He shall the debt of nature pay:<br /> +On lov’d Maria now I dwell,<br /> +My grief for her no pen can tell;<br /> +To spare a mother’s pangs she flew,<br /> +To thee, ere I cou’d say adieu!<br /> +The babe was not a year with me,<br /> +Ere angels wafted her to thee:<br /> +For Charlotte’s life, oh Lord! I pray,<br /> +And Robert’s too both night and day;<br /> +Should it be thy will to call<br /> +Them from my sight, I pray, that all<br /> +My children may obtain a rest,<br /> +Were souls are number’d with the blest.<br /> +Henry a mother’s last delight,<br /> +Improve O Lord, his health and sight,<br /> +That quick I find his strength increase,<br /> +My thanks to thee, shall never cease.</p> +<h2><!-- page 26--><a name="page26"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +26</span><span class="smcap">on seeing a young nobleman</span><br +/> +IMPRISONED FOR DEBT.</h2> +<p class="poetry">The victim of sorrow with gloom on his mind,<br +/> +Sighs for those pleasures he late left behind;<br /> +The bottle, the play-house, card-room and ball,<br /> +And the fine guilded chariot kept at the hall;<br /> +Enjoy’d but at night in dreams mix’d with sorrow,<br +/> +That leaves the imprudent as hopeless to morrow.<br /> +With anguish he views his now alter’d state,<br /> +Laments his past folly but finds it too late;<br /> +His bottle companions in assistance will fail,<br /> +Soon as they hear he is plac’d in a jail:<br /> +Fair economy’s rules he brings to his view,<br /> +Determines in future her plans to pursue;<br /> +The downfal of life, oft the delicate kill,<br /> +By a strong dose of adversity’s pill;<br /> +Neglected in prison, yields up his life,<br /> +And leaves in despair his children and wife;<br /> +Oblig’d to return to her father’s once more,<br /> +Endeavours again her peace to restore;<br /> +Grief so harress’d once a heart blith and gay,<br /> +Death soon appear’d and took her quick away.</p> +<h2><!-- page 27--><a name="page27"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +27</span>LIFE.</h2> +<p class="poetry">When e’er you walk the hill or street,<br +/> +A flaunting dressing thing you’ll meet;<br /> +Her wanton air would fain beguile,<br /> +A thoughtless youth to stray awhile:<br /> +Her conversation gross he’ll find,<br /> +Chaste modesty she leaves behind;<br /> +That Goddess seldom now appear,<br /> +Where people walk to take the air.<br /> +She daily must in Laces dress,<br /> +Altho’ her parents in distress:<br /> +She’ll get them any way she can,<br /> +To marry some unthinking man.<br /> +When he the flaunter do obtain,<br /> +On pleasure’s wings she fix her brain;<br /> +His shirts or stockings she can’t mend,<br /> +But must them to a neighbour send;<br /> +And tells her husband, he must stray<br /> +With her to see a merry play.<br /> +He must comply, or else he’ll find<br /> +She teazes much his gloomy mind;<br /> +Often she does the man reproach,<br /> +Because he cannot keep a Coach:<br /> +Tells him she cannot rest at home,<br /> +And do with finer people roam;<br /> +<!-- page 28--><a name="page28"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +28</span>The husband now alarm’d appears,<br /> +Too just his reason for his fears:<br /> +Truth silence now his sad alarms,<br /> +She’s fled into another’s arms.<br /> +Parents oft cause a girl’s distress,<br /> +By letting her devote to dress;<br /> +Time which they should frequent spend,<br /> +At house-work, or their clothes to mend:<br /> +A watch must now adorn the side,<br /> +To fill their minds with erring pride;<br /> +Tells her that every fop admire,<br /> +And soon she’ll gain a Country squire;<br /> +Again I say a boarding school,<br /> +Too often makes sweet Miss a fool;<br /> +Put such strange notions in her brain,<br /> +As she cannot good sense retain:<br /> +When Miss is taken from the school,<br /> +She wants in every thing to rule;<br /> +There she perhaps may learn to dance,<br /> +Alike the paltry things from France:<br /> +This plain truth I dare to tell,<br /> +But few from them correctly spell;<br /> +Too often write so bad a hand,<br /> +That scarce one line you understand;<br /> +Their education often makes,<br /> +Them only fit for lords or rakes.<br /> +To Miss and schools I bid adieu,<br /> +And will another tale pursue.<br /> +<!-- page 29--><a name="page29"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +29</span>Many a tradesman in this place,<br /> +Brings on themselves their own disgrace;<br /> +Politics engross their mind,<br /> +And cause their friends to be unkind:<br /> +The horns anounce the papers in,<br /> +His daily pleasures now begin;<br /> +Two hours are wasted in this day,<br /> +Which time he should to business pay;<br /> +Customers too frequent call,<br /> +And cannot see the man at all:<br /> +Each one declares he’ll call no more,<br /> +As he had been there oft before.<br /> +No wonder that he cannot pay,<br /> +As thus he trifles time away:<br /> +We often do our fate bewail,<br /> +When adverse gales do us assail;<br /> +The money that we waste away,<br /> +Frequent we should to others pay;<br /> +Careless of our neighbours grief,<br /> +We only seek our own relief;<br /> +The cause we have such dismal times,<br /> +Is chiefly owing to our crimes.<br /> +The pipe and bottle frequent stay,<br /> +The man who should attention pay;<br /> +To business, or to any thing<br /> +Which may perhaps a profit bring;<br /> +Insteads of wine, drink humble ale,<br /> +Drop fine gigs thus ends my tale.</p> +<h2><!-- page 30--><a name="page30"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +30</span>ON SEEING COLOURS CONSECRATED:<br /> +PRESENTED BY MRS. BERKLEY.</h2> +<p class="poetry">Berkley, the female champion of our cause,<br +/> +While gratitude exists demands applause;<br /> +The morn was fine and pleasant was the scene,<br /> +The sons of Briton met on Writtle green:<br /> +To church repair’d with fervency and grace,<br /> +And loyalty appear’d on every face;<br /> +Prayers were read with energy and truth,<br /> +To give instructions to the British youth;<br /> +The same good order then was plainly seen,<br /> +When they return’d advancing to the green:<br /> +The line was form’d and music now begins,<br /> +To offer praises to the best of kings;<br /> +The Captain with due modesty and grace,<br /> +Marches the ensigns to their proper place.<br /> +With manners pleasing and with accents just,<br /> +The worthy fair one yields the sacred trust;<br /> +Speaks of their duty in the hour of strife,<br /> +Never to yield those colours but with life:<br /> +With manliness the Captain quick replies,<br /> +No man will yield them! madam, till he dies;<br /> +Ensigns receiv’d them from the Captain’s hand,<br /> +May God protect them ever in this land.</p> +<p style="text-align: center">FINIS.</p> +<div class="gapshortdoubleline"> </div> +<p style="text-align: center"><span class="smcap">lane and +walker</span>, <span class="smcap">printers</span>.</p> +<p>***END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK POETICAL WORKS***</p> +<pre> + + +***** This file should be named 32276-h.htm or 32276-h.zip****** + + +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: +http://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/3/2/2/7/32276 + + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + + + + +Title: Poetical Works + comprising Elegies, Sketches from Life, Pathetic, and Extempore Pieces + + +Author: James Parkerson + + + +Release Date: May 6, 2010 [eBook #32276] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-646-US (US-ASCII) + + +***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK POETICAL WORKS*** + + +Transcribed from the early 1800's copy by David Price, email +ccx074@pglaf.org. Many thanks to Norfolk and Norwich Millennium Library, +UK, for kindly supplying the images from which this transcription was +made. + + + + + + POETICAL WORKS, + _BY J. PARKERSON_, _Jun._ + + + COMPRISING + Elegies, Sketches from Life, + PATHETIC, + + AND + _EXTEMPORE PIECES_. + + * * * * * + + PRICE ONE SHILLING. + + * * * * * + + _NORWICH_: + + PRINTED AND SOLD BY LANE AND WALKER, + ST. ANDREW'S. + + SOLD ALSO BY THE AUTHOR; CROSBY AND CO. + W. BAYNES, LONDON; GOOCH, YARMOUTH; + AND ALL OTHER BOOKSELLERS. + + + + +THE BANKRUPT. + + + Oft have you pray'd me, when in youth, + Never to err from paths of truth; + But youth to vice is much too prone, + And mine by far too much, I own. + Induced to riot, swear, and game, + I thought in vice t'acquire fame; + But found the pois'ning scenes of riot + Soon robb'd my mind of joy and quiet. + The usual course of rakes I ran, + The dupe of woman and of man. + Careless of fortune's smile or frown, + My desk I left t'enjoy the town, + At folly dash'd in wisdom's spite, + Idled by day, revell'd by night: + But short was that delusive scene, + And I awoke to sorrow keen. + Debt press'd on debt: I could not pay, + And found that credit had its day. + No friend to aid, what should I do? + I made bad worse: to liquor flew: + For when my bill-book I survey'd, + I shrunk, as if I'd seen my shade; + And to drive terror from my mind, + Drank on, and care gave to the wind: + But wine nor words can charm away + The banker's clerk who comes for pay. + Payment is press'd, the cash is gone: + Too late I cry, 'what must be done?' + Horrow! a docket struck appears: + I look aghast, my wife's in tears. + The naked truth stares in my face, + And shows me more than one disgrace. + My keys a messenger demands; + While, as a culprit often stands, + The humbled bankrupt lowers his view, + And sees the law its work pursue. + Soon comes of all his goods, the sale; + Which, like light straw before a gale, + The hammer-man puffs clean away, + And cries, 'they must be sold this day.' + They are so, and I'll tell you how: + At loss you'll readily allow. + Then comes the tedious, humbling task, + To answer all commiss'ners ask; + And those who mean to act most fair, + Will at first meeting e'er appear, + To questions ask'd will answer true, + And clearly state accounts to view. + A second he need not attend, + But if not may perhaps offend. + Happy the man who then can lay + His hand upon his heart, and say, + 'You all my books and deeds may scan + I'm honest, though distress'd man. + My own just wants, and losses great, + Have brought me to this low estate.' + Then comes the last dread meeting on, + Dreadful to such as will act wrong, + And through dishonesty or shame + Evasive answers 'tempt to frame: + For vain his shifts; howe'er he try, + He can't elude the searching eye + Of lawyers, who'll in all things pry: + His private foibles e'en mast out-- + Grievous exposure 'tis no doubt! + And if he's fraudl'lent found, must go + To witness scenes of vice and woe; + Of liberty deprived, to wail + His faults and folly in a jail: + But should his conduct seem least fair, + England's blest laws will set him clear; + Not only so, but means will give + T'enable him again to live: + For such the law, that when 'tis found + There's fifteen shillings in the pound, + A handsome drawback he's allow'd, + When, 'stead of shamed, he may look proud; + And be his div'dend e'er so low, + They'll never let him coinless go. + Yes, be it e'er a Briton's pride, + That mercy in his courts preside. + But e'er he's paid, he must await + T'obtain a fair certificate. + Some cases there however are + Which, at first view, may seem severe; + Suppose his creditors are ten; + Four sign, the rest refuse: what then? + If their demand exceed the four + They'll keep the bankrupt in their pow'r; + And although he has all resign'd, + If unproved debts remain behind, + Inhuman creditors then may + His body into prison lay, + Where oft the wretch, to sooth his grief, + In dissipation seeks relief. + Sometimes a parent may prevent + Unmeaningly the law's intent; + And merc'less creditors decline + The hapless debtor's deed to sign, + In hopes the father may one day + The long-neglected son's debts pay. + The Lawyer and the Auctioneer, + Plunges all parties in despair; + When Creditors their bills do see, + Each sighing say nought's left for me. + + + + +AN ADDRESS +TO THE +INSOLVENT. + + + Embarress'd man be just and true, + Insolvent acts releases you; + I mean your person from a jail, + Tho' keen reproach the man assail. + Take my advice when e'er you find, + Misfortunes canker in your mind; + Resign your trade give up your store, + For going on will hurt you more. + When e'er you find you cannot pay, + Your trade give up without delay; + Too apt we are when cares oppress, + To liquor fly to make them less. + Many I fear from business stray, + Soon as they find they cannot pay; + Others to prisons frequent fly, + To waste their time in luxury. + Painful sensations are their doom, + When they behold a prison's gloom; + Do not suppose I mean there are, + But few in prisons that act fair. + Yes, I should hope not one in ten, + Pursue a base ungenerous plan. + If it's your fate to be confin'd, + Enter a jail with fervent mind; + To give up all were all is due, + And virtue's course through life pursue. + Abstain from drinking, or you'll find, + Doing such things disturb the mind; + Think of your wife and view the tear, + That start from her caus'd by despair. + A prison's horrors shake her frame, + When she at entrance say her name; + Perhaps an infant in her arms, + Raise in your mind grief's quick alarms. + Sometimes an aged father flies, + To see you there before he dies; + Likely a tender mother say, + My son I'll see without delay. + Each brings affections sighs and tears, + With throbbing hearts and thousand fears; + Perhaps their little all they give, + That you from prison quickly live. + A brother comes a brother say, + I cannot from you keep away; + Take my last shilling I've no more, + You know the reason I am poor. + Let my forgiveness dry your tears, + And lull to rest a brother's fears; + A tender sister, close the scene + Of anguish, grief, and sorrow keen; + She gives a sigh and said adieu, + And waft her blessings then on you. + Johnson who keeps the County Jail, + The captives fate he much bewail; + And tries the utmost in his power, + To soften each corroding hour, + Of those appointed to his care, + And lull to rest the mind's despair. + Respect to all he daily pay, + While they the prison laws obey; + But if decorum's rules they break, + Coercive steps he quickly take; + Till order is restor'd again, + And they from acting wrong refrain. + Each turnkey is a civil man, + And will oblige you if they can; + Yet faithful to their trust they are, + And will do nothing that's unfair. + On City prison now I dwell, + The captives like their keeper well; + They say he's kind to every man, + And ease their troubles all he can. + + + + +TO THE MEMORY +OF AN +AFFECTIONATE PARENT. + + + My pen cannot describe or tears convey, + The pangs I felt when late I bad farewell; + I view'd in death's embrace a parent lay, + And heard the passing of the mournful bell. + + Nine month's disease its ravages had made, + E'er death reliev'd her from all sufferings here; + I saw the Sexton with his Iron spade, + Mark out the spot, and place the gloomy bier. + + Affecting scene! while recollection last, + I'll trace the parting of our sad adieu; + Dwell on those scenes that are for ever past, + Tho' in my mind it troubles fresh renew. + + Just before death had wield the fatal blow, + That stops the power of utterance or sigh; + She with a voice angelic soft and low, + Cried, Lord! forgive me e'er my spirit fly. + + Oft have I seen my virtuous parent stray, + O'er her lov'd garden pensive and forlorn; + To cull the flowers each succeeding day, + And view the beauties of a summer's morn. + + Scarce did the flower adorn the spot around, + But her hand planted in its proper place; + No fonder lover of those sweets were found, + While she their beauties in her mind cou'd trace. + + Three days before her suffering were o'er, + She crav'd assistance to her favourite spot; + And said my roses I shall see no more, + And when I'm absent they will be forgot. + + But for her sake a faithful servant toil, + To free the flowers from weeds from morn till night; + Or bring fresh water to the thirsty soil, + To that lov'd spot that gave her oft delight. + + Anticipation to the panting heart, + Convey'd the dread decree of fate's ordain; + To say she must from earthly scenes depart, + And not to them for ever turn again, + + Meekness thro' life had mark'd her for her care, + While resignation claim'd her for her own; + Sometimes her mind wou'd cheerful still appear, + And strive to stifle pain's afflicting groan. + + Oh God! she cried, thy mercy let me crave, + Till life's short span is taken quite away; + Then may I rest at peace within the grave, + To wait thy summons for the awful day. + + Scarce had religion brought sweet hope, to aid + The virtuous victim in the pangs of death; + When soft a guardian angel gently said, + You'll dwell with me when time extinguish breath. + + A few short struggles and the scene was o'er, + Death with his victim flew above the skies; + I shall thro' life her absence oft deplore, + Till recollection from my memory flies. + + The humble cottagers their Mistress bore, + To her cold home each face bedew'd with tears; + She to her mansion to return no more, + For death has silenc'd all her hopes and fears. + + Oh! had you seen my good and worthy sire, + In sorrow's garment his last duty pay; + To her whose virtues did esteem acquire, + Or ease the troubles of a luckless day. + + Two sorrowing sons increas'd the gloomy day, + Who will while life remain her loss deplore; + Till recollection from them fade away, + Or erring mortals here do sin no more. + + Each little mourner drop'd affection's tear, + When dust on dust the coffin hid from view; + Their youthful sighs denoted their despair, + When they of Grandma' bid a long adieu. + + + + +THOUGHTS ON PASSING THROUGH +A +CHURCH-YARD. + + + I've pac'd the sacred yard, oh death! thy sting, + Expunge from earth the beggar and the king; + A marble monument, a stone foretell, + The characters below, here acted well: + Each grave a warning give, and yet we see, + Few strive to gain a bless'd eternity: + Kindred and neighbours with departing sigh, + Cry, write o'er me, 'remember all must die!' + Can we these warnings with indifferance view, + And still a life of guilt and sin pursue. + So frail our natures that at times we pray, + At church at morn, yet sin the after day; + Much shall we tremble, when the trumpets sound, + To call us to our God with Angels round. + There shall we tottering hear the just decree, + Of him alone, who can all spirits free: + How oft we find when sickness brings distress, + We wish our sufferings and our crimes were less; + It is our crimes that most our anguish brings, + And paint grim death, with all his bitter stings, + Then erring man if happiness you crave, + Repent and sin no more this side the grave. + + + + +ON THE DEATH +OF +MR. CHARLES SAVORY. + + + When fortune smil'd, his friendly care + Was to relieve distress; + And ease the wretched in dispair, + Or make their troubles less. + When to him misfortune stray'd, + No brothers gave relief; + To assist the man each seem'd afraid, + Or ease the brow of grief. + A trifling pittance neighbours say, + The elder B---r sent; + Not half enough in life's decay, + To pay his nurse and rent. + From his misfortunes well its known, + Their anger did increase; + He wish'd his friend would make it known, + He died with all at peace. + Within the church beside his wife, + My friend's remains are laid; + Remov'd from all the pangs of life, + Or B---s to upbraid. + Benevolence came forth with speed, + While pity went before; + Holding J. Barber's hand to aid, + The man that's now no more. + Oh Barber! such a heart as thine, + Are seldom found in man; + Thy generous deeds to endless time, + Will prove sweet comforts plan. + What proof thou gives of friendly care, + To take his orphan girl; + And dry the child's fresh starting tear, + And from her grief to hurl. + Oh daughter of my late lov'd friend, + Religious guide pursue; + Till your last moments here do end, + Or tomb encompass you. + + + + +EPITAPH TO THE ABOVE. + + + Faithful in friendship kind to all, + The needy poor around; + And those who gave a friendly call, + A hearty welcome found. + + Deceit ne'er harbour'd in his breast, + Or flattery in his mind; + From troubles here he surely rest, + And hope forgiveness find. + + + + +THE +INJURED TO THE INJURER. + + + You vilest of the human race, + A traitorous fiend with double face; + A fawning sycophant from youth, + Who never spoke a word of truth: + Who shed thy tears like crocodile; + Apparent virtue prov'd all vile: + You ask'd for cash the other day; + And for your coach hire home to pay. + Poor needy wretch I lent you gold, + You in return my credit sold: + But vile ingrate, the world shall know, + You've prov'd my base ungenerous foe. + From watchmen who protect the laws, + Did I not screen you from their paws; + Said that at home I soon should be, + Soon as arriv'd you came to me. + Said that you wanted forty pounds, + You stamp'd, and swore, and struck the ground. + Tho' press'd myself I lent it you, + With blessings on me bade adieu: + 'Twas Sunday night that we did part, + I thought 'twas with an honest heart; + You said my brothers here would be, + To lend me aid and set me free: + Instead of brothers, bailiffs came + To caption me and hurt my name. + They had a writ from Mr Blake, + My body into prison take; + Vile wretch you'll have the public scorn, + To curse the day that you were born: + I'll publish to the world your knavery, + And write my name the injur'd, SAVORY. + Interest leads mankind to stray, + From honesty both night and day; + When fortune smiles, friends we do meet, + That greet us kindly in the street; + But when they see us in distress, + You'll frequent find their number less. + Too well I know this to be true, + And worthy neighbours so do you; + When you can spend a pound-note free, + A clever fellow you will be; + But when your purse is empty grown, + Those compliments from you are flown; + Its not dear sir I wish to see, + You at my house to dine and tea; + Do but just say you'll to them roam, + They'll say they cannot be at home. + + + + +ON THE DEATH +OF +LORD NELSON. + + + The fleets of haughty France and Spain, + No more will triumph on the main, + Though Nelson is no more: + Our hero's blood was dearly bought; + To conquer them he bravely fought, + And died in vict'ry's arms. + + 'We'll avenge his death,' the seamen cry, + 'We'll fight, we'll conquer, or we'll die, + And will their force deride: + Our little ones shall lisp his name, + And to acquire a Nelson's fame, + Will ever be their pride.' + + Before cold death had closed his eyes, + Cover'd with wounds, the hero cries, + 'Is victory our own?' + 'We've conquer'd,' cried the valiant crew, + He smiling bade them all adieu, + And died without a groan. + + Yet, ere he flew, he did enquire, + How many ships were then on fire, + And others that had struck: + Well pleased the hero then was seen, + When told the number was fifteen; + For England was his care. + + Then with a bright benignant smile, + Inploring blessings on our isle, + Bade Collingwood adieu: + Oh, gracious God! my soul receive, + From troubles England quick relieve, + And peace again renew. + + Oh death! thy keen unwelcome blow, + Laid England's darling bleeding low, + The hour he gain'd the day; + Soon as thy hand, had clos'd his eyes, + A beautious angel from the skies; + Flew with his soul away. + + To taste sweet joys beyond the grave, + That are allotted for the brave, + Who fall in victory's arms: + Many a tar we hope to find, + Will prove he has the hero's mind, + When signals raise alarms. + + + + +TRUTH. + + + The unsuspecting often meet deceit, + By fawning wretches that would kiss their feet; + Such is the case, that man to man you'll see, + Would for a shilling a curs'd traitor be. + Too well I know by sad experience bought, + Man have by artful means my ruin sought; + And would have plung'd me in extreme distress, + To gain their aims, or make their troubles less. + Mankind sometimes will act a knavish part, + And unexpected use deceit and art. + The world is grown so fond of getting cash, + That for its sake they'll do what's base or rash: + Will make him drunk to gain a neighbour's wife, + Forge a last will, or take away his life: + A rape commit and laws avenge defy, + Flog a poor boy, or tell a flagrant lye: + Oft have I seen a poor and friendless child, + Flog'd near to death and made by torments wild; + For faults so small that blame you cou'd not see, + Nor cou'd his Master mention them to me; + When I the monster did upbraid, he swore + Another time he'd give him ten times more. + Scenes such as these too often do appear, + And pity 'tis some punishments severe, + Was not inflicted on the sordid elf, + Either by hanging, or the loss of wealth. + + + + +BETSY'S TEARS, +A SONG. + + + Oh Betsy hide that starting tear, + That fain would speak distress; + A cherub's aid will soon appear, + And make your sufferings less. + + You say no pity you can crave, + For misery here below; + Then rest your hopes beyond the grave, + Where God great mercy show. + + To every damsel in distress, + If penitents they prove; + He quickly make their sorrows less, + And send again his love. + + The villian that betray'd in youth, + An artless maid astray; + Was stranger to the love of truth, + Or what the scriptures say. + + An earthly guardian he was made, + By him that is no more; + He'll find chastisement's sharpen'd blade, + On him torments pour. + + No retribution he can make, + While on this earth he crawls; + God will speedy vengance take, + When he the reptile calls. + + + + +THE REPROACH. + + + Canst thou see my wasted frame, + And hear aloud sad Betsy's name, + And still unmov'd remain; + Yes, thou canst hear it every day, + And to it oft attention pay: + Without a sigh or pain. + + But when ye do in heaven appear, + My Father's spirit will be there; + And hear thy awful doom. + Thy soul will then tormented be, + For dealing so unjust with me; + Who wither'd ere my bloom. + + When virtuous souls are with the blest, + Thy guilty shade will find no rest; + But hurl'd to endless pain, + Were wicked man is made to know, + That Satan dealt the painful blow; + And will torment again. + + No wealth can lull to rest my fears, + Or time dry up my falling tears; + Till I from life am flown: + Then do I hope once more to see, + My parents both along with me; + And they their Betsy own. + + + + +ALBERT TO HANNAH. + + + I've read your letter o'er and o'er again, + Happy to find you faithful do remain, + Besides forgiveness; though too much I fear, + I long have made you victim to despair. + You say two years with fervency I strove + To keep affection, constancy, and love; + But soon as crosses came upon my mind, + Was careless of you, and appear'd unkind. + I knew my home was neat, serene, and nice; + But, ah! that home I lost, allured by vice. + Soon as you fled, a different scene in view, + Gone all attention soon as I lost you. + The quick retort was always in my ears, + You've drown'd a virtuous wife in sorrow's tears. + Soon as I found all hopes to meet you fled, + I pray'd I might be number'd with the dead: + Oblivion's aid I oft invok'd by drink, + I could not meditate nor dared to think. + You say it cost you tears to write to me, + But they'll disperse when you a convert see. + Long I've invok'd a pardon from above, + To make me worthy of the wife I love: + Return, and till my days are at an end, + I'll prove protector, guardian, and a friend. + The converse delicate, the smile sincere, + Will check the sigh, and stop the rising tear; + Cheerful as formerly we'll pass our life, + A happy husband I, and you the wife. + + + + +ON SEEING AN AMIABLE WOMAN +DISTRESSED IN MIND. + + + Oh gracious God, her peace restore, + And make her sufferings less; + Let frenzied thoughts disturb no more, + Or sorrow on her press. + + Pour down thy blessings, on a mind + Encompass'd round by grief; + Let fortune smile and friends be kind, + To nature grant relief. + + 'Twas pure affection caus'd her tears, + And furrow'd beauty's face; + But thou can lull to rest her fears, + By thy almighty grace. + + May guardian angels plant their seat, + Beside the lovely fair; + While hope and comfort frequent meet, + To keep her from despair. + + Tranquillity thou dove-ey'd maid, + A visit quickly pay; + Of virtue's self, be not afraid, + Stay with her all the day. + + + + +A MOTHER'S ADDRESS TO THE DEITY. + + + Accept oh Lord! a mother's prayer, + And shield my child from sickness here; + May Judah, ever constant prove + Herself deserving of thy love: + Sweet Robert in this vale of tears, + Survived with me three sickening years, + Before it was thy will to say, + He shall the debt of nature pay: + On lov'd Maria now I dwell, + My grief for her no pen can tell; + To spare a mother's pangs she flew, + To thee, ere I cou'd say adieu! + The babe was not a year with me, + Ere angels wafted her to thee: + For Charlotte's life, oh Lord! I pray, + And Robert's too both night and day; + Should it be thy will to call + Them from my sight, I pray, that all + My children may obtain a rest, + Were souls are number'd with the blest. + Henry a mother's last delight, + Improve O Lord, his health and sight, + That quick I find his strength increase, + My thanks to thee, shall never cease. + + + + +ON SEEING A YOUNG NOBLEMAN +IMPRISONED FOR DEBT. + + + The victim of sorrow with gloom on his mind, + Sighs for those pleasures he late left behind; + The bottle, the play-house, card-room and ball, + And the fine guilded chariot kept at the hall; + Enjoy'd but at night in dreams mix'd with sorrow, + That leaves the imprudent as hopeless to morrow. + With anguish he views his now alter'd state, + Laments his past folly but finds it too late; + His bottle companions in assistance will fail, + Soon as they hear he is plac'd in a jail: + Fair economy's rules he brings to his view, + Determines in future her plans to pursue; + The downfal of life, oft the delicate kill, + By a strong dose of adversity's pill; + Neglected in prison, yields up his life, + And leaves in despair his children and wife; + Oblig'd to return to her father's once more, + Endeavours again her peace to restore; + Grief so harress'd once a heart blith and gay, + Death soon appear'd and took her quick away. + + + + +LIFE. + + + When e'er you walk the hill or street, + A flaunting dressing thing you'll meet; + Her wanton air would fain beguile, + A thoughtless youth to stray awhile: + Her conversation gross he'll find, + Chaste modesty she leaves behind; + That Goddess seldom now appear, + Where people walk to take the air. + She daily must in Laces dress, + Altho' her parents in distress: + She'll get them any way she can, + To marry some unthinking man. + When he the flaunter do obtain, + On pleasure's wings she fix her brain; + His shirts or stockings she can't mend, + But must them to a neighbour send; + And tells her husband, he must stray + With her to see a merry play. + He must comply, or else he'll find + She teazes much his gloomy mind; + Often she does the man reproach, + Because he cannot keep a Coach: + Tells him she cannot rest at home, + And do with finer people roam; + The husband now alarm'd appears, + Too just his reason for his fears: + Truth silence now his sad alarms, + She's fled into another's arms. + Parents oft cause a girl's distress, + By letting her devote to dress; + Time which they should frequent spend, + At house-work, or their clothes to mend: + A watch must now adorn the side, + To fill their minds with erring pride; + Tells her that every fop admire, + And soon she'll gain a Country squire; + Again I say a boarding school, + Too often makes sweet Miss a fool; + Put such strange notions in her brain, + As she cannot good sense retain: + When Miss is taken from the school, + She wants in every thing to rule; + There she perhaps may learn to dance, + Alike the paltry things from France: + This plain truth I dare to tell, + But few from them correctly spell; + Too often write so bad a hand, + That scarce one line you understand; + Their education often makes, + Them only fit for lords or rakes. + To Miss and schools I bid adieu, + And will another tale pursue. + Many a tradesman in this place, + Brings on themselves their own disgrace; + Politics engross their mind, + And cause their friends to be unkind: + The horns anounce the papers in, + His daily pleasures now begin; + Two hours are wasted in this day, + Which time he should to business pay; + Customers too frequent call, + And cannot see the man at all: + Each one declares he'll call no more, + As he had been there oft before. + No wonder that he cannot pay, + As thus he trifles time away: + We often do our fate bewail, + When adverse gales do us assail; + The money that we waste away, + Frequent we should to others pay; + Careless of our neighbours grief, + We only seek our own relief; + The cause we have such dismal times, + Is chiefly owing to our crimes. + The pipe and bottle frequent stay, + The man who should attention pay; + To business, or to any thing + Which may perhaps a profit bring; + Insteads of wine, drink humble ale, + Drop fine gigs thus ends my tale. + + + + +ON SEEING COLOURS CONSECRATED: +PRESENTED BY MRS. BERKLEY. + + + Berkley, the female champion of our cause, + While gratitude exists demands applause; + The morn was fine and pleasant was the scene, + The sons of Briton met on Writtle green: + To church repair'd with fervency and grace, + And loyalty appear'd on every face; + Prayers were read with energy and truth, + To give instructions to the British youth; + The same good order then was plainly seen, + When they return'd advancing to the green: + The line was form'd and music now begins, + To offer praises to the best of kings; + The Captain with due modesty and grace, + Marches the ensigns to their proper place. + With manners pleasing and with accents just, + The worthy fair one yields the sacred trust; + Speaks of their duty in the hour of strife, + Never to yield those colours but with life: + With manliness the Captain quick replies, + No man will yield them! madam, till he dies; + Ensigns receiv'd them from the Captain's hand, + May God protect them ever in this land. + + FINIS. + + * * * * * + + LANE AND WALKER, PRINTERS. + + + + +***END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK POETICAL WORKS*** + + +******* This file should be named 32276.txt or 32276.zip ******* + + +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: +http://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/3/2/2/7/32276 + + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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