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+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: 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.
+
+
+
+
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