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diff --git a/33732.txt b/33732.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..89af70d --- /dev/null +++ b/33732.txt @@ -0,0 +1,1429 @@ +The Project Gutenberg eBook, Sketches in Verse, 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: Sketches in Verse + respectfully addressed to the Norfolk Yeomenry + + +Author: James Parkerson + + + +Release Date: September 15, 2010 [eBook #33732] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-646-US (US-ASCII) + + +***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK SKETCHES IN VERSE*** + + +Transcribed from the early 1800's Walker edition 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. + + + _PRICE_ 2_s._ + + * * * * * + + + + + + SKETCHES + _IN VERSE_; + Respectfully Addressed + TO THE + _NORFOLK YEOMENRY_, + + + * * * * * + + BY J. PARKERSON, JUN. + + * * * * * + + VIZ. + + * * * * * + +On Foreign Grain. The Corn Mart. On Mr. L. the Unhappy Convict. The +Pine Apple. On the late Sir Samuel Rommilly. The Wiverton Boy, &c. + + [Picture: Decorative divider] + + Walker, Printer, near the Duke's Palace, Norwich + + + + +_THE NORWICH_ +CORN MART. {1} + + + * * * * * + + BY J. PARKERSON, JUNR. + + * * * * * + + At one o'clock the busy seen begin, + Quick to the hall they all are posting in; + The cautious merchant takes his stand, + The farmer shows the product of his land: + If wheat the merchant says it's damp or cold, + If Dawling Market, that's the case I'm told. + If it is barley he'll your mind unhinge, + And say good Sir it has a gloomy dinge; + Reduce three shillings of the currant price, + And with the farmer he'll be very nice; + If oats you offer he'll bid very low, + Say they are light the moment you them show; + If beans then say this sample's very soft, + And in his purchase he will keep aloft; + Show him a sample of good Brank or Rye, + He'll bid you low and look extremely shy: + This is the case if Mark Lane's very dull, + And all his granaries are very full. + Yet if the market keep upon the rise, + Tho' bad your sample that he'll not despise, + Purchase as much as he can gain that day, + Or from his net proceeds afford to pay; + 'Tant always markets make a merchant dull, + It is the banker on him has a pull; + That often gives despair or cause a gloom, + He fears an order to the sweating room. + I've known that happen on a market day, + Then from the mart he's forc'd to keep away, + Sometimes G. R. locks up the malt house door, + From an extent and makes him sad and poor; + A country house and a new fashioned gig, + He keeps to make him look at markets big; + Soon as demands upon him loudly call, + He say to day I shant attend the hall: + The clerk announce his master is unwell, + Yet purchase all you are inclined to sell; + And when for payment you may on him call, + Leaves Norwich mart and can't be found at all; + And when a stoppage happens farmers quake, + Then cry who'd thought that such a man would break; + To take off merchants I am quite unwilling, + At first set off, some are not worth a shilling; + A loss at sea they cannot long withstand, + Can't call their own an acre of good land; + Yet I protest, pace all our city round, + I don't know one that is not just and sound; + They deal with honour and are men of trade, + Keep up their payments and disdain parade; + At times a farmer often do complain, + If now and then they do refuse his grain; + Sometimes he sells a sample of hard beans, + On market days and after sends his teams; + The merchant do the article refuse, + For in the sacks much softer grain he views; + The reason's plain he can't the bulk admire, + The sample was improved from a large fire; + Soon as he comes to where he do set up, + Of London Porter oft he takes a sup; + The sample in his pocket, there he'll stay + By a good fire and chat two hours away; + Of altering samples he pays no regard, + But such a conduct makes the sample hard; + Then he complains if a reduction's made, + That he's in fault you cannot him persuade; + Friction will much improve most sorts of grain, + You on this subject no longer i'll detain. + + + + +On Mr. L--- + + +_Taking leave of his Wife and Children_, _who was Sentenced to +__Transportation for Fourteen Years_. + + * * * * * + + FROM LIFE. + + * * * * * + + Hannah farewell I'm bound to go, + To taste the bitter draught of woe; + And as I view that starting tear, + It drives and sinks me to despair; + And now I take a last farewell, + The grief I feel no one can tell; + Two lovely children claims my care, + I'm forc'd to clothe them with despair; + As sorrow only on them press, + They are doomed to wear no other dress; + We little thought some former years, + In such a place to shed our tears; + There's only one our tears can dry, + It is the God like Deity. + And he can all our griefs expel, + Altho' I bid this last farewell; + These fetters he can quick undo, + And send me back to live with you; + May hope with all its balmy power, + Sooth Hannah in each trying hour, + Friendship I fear will from you flee, + Ere I am riding on the sea; + For the rich will close the door, + 'Gainst those misfortune maketh poor; + And even in a lucky day, + The'll from the brightest object stray; + And those I've injured will descry, + Your falling state and destiny; + The G---'s are good and often kind, + To those where troubles press the mind. + I hope when I am gone from view, + Kind friendship they will show to you; + Great confidence they placed in me, + Till lured by worldly gaiety; + Suspicion on me hurl'd its dart, + Forc'd on a sudden to depart, + From Children Home and Hannah too, + Disgraced I fled from public view; + But justice has a piercing eye, + Her runners quick did me espy; + Most fairly tried tho' guilty found, + Calmly I heard the dreadful sound; + That ushered to my anxious heart, + That I from Hannah must depart; + For fourteen years ere I shall see + My troubles o'er and liberty; + To God my fate and life I trust, + What he ordains I know is just; + Whene'er a man from honour stray, + By vice he's easy led away; + To every wicked artful plan, + That soon entraps the falling man; + And what increase foreboding tears, + My little ones are come of years; + When they demand a father's aid + Methinks I hear it justly said, + I ought that thought before possess, + Ere I my wife and them distress; + Extravagance have been the cause; + That made me act against the laws; + And you that dress in rich attire, + And only flippant things admire; + Extravagance will oft too late, + Cause you to mourn a culprits fate. + The name of felon oft I hear, + That very name increase despair; + And as I now my fetters view, + I dread what shortly will ensue; + Methinks I hear the goaler say, + This day from her you go away; + From Britons happy peaceful shore, + My wife and home to see no more; + Till fourteen years are roll'd away, + I shall not see a happy day; + Oh should that happy time return, + Then will my heart with rapture burn; + At such a time my wife to view, + Would every care of life subdue; + My children to my arms I'd press, + And never more cause their distress; + Hope gently wispers to my heart, + That ere I long from you depart, + Those I have injured will obtain + A mandate to unloose the chain; + And as they view your wretched state, + They'll mourn an absent father's fate. + Seldom they ever sue in vain, + To our loved prince but mostly gain, + A respite from the pangs of grief, + Or gain an order for relief; + I've borne the unfeeling keen reproach, + Some said I longed to keep a coach; + That I in tendom oft did ride, + With all an upstarts sullen pride; + 'Twas pride that led me to disgrace, + I took what I could not replace; + Had I a million, that I'd give, + With you in future for to live; + Oh! Hannah are you come again, + To sooth my woe and ease my pain; + Your cheeks I've furrowed with sad tears, + Come gentle hope dismiss those fears; + That do her tender frame distress, + Oh! God make Hannah's sufferings less. + My last of efforts unless prove, + My doom I find is fixed above; + No intercession can obtain, + A respite from this galling chain. + I'm doomed to waste some years away, + Far, far, from you upon the bay. + Oh keen distress with every ill, + Obtrude on me the bitter pill; + While life remains hope will divest + A gloomy thought tho' he's distress'd. + It feeds the wound yet known no cure, + And often makes us more indure; + Sometimes it lulls us into sleep, + And for a time our senses steep; + And like a pleasing dream obtain, + A short abatement from our pain; + Soon as it vanish from our view, + Our earthly troubles rise anew; + Till death unwelcome strikes his dart, + And ease the captives aching heart: + But oh! that awful coming day, + That every mortals crimes display; + What creatures shall we then appear, + The Lord's decree we all must hear; + May every soul that's tried above, + From Christ obtain our maker's love. + Oh! God I hear the dreadful call, + Prepare, prepare, ye felons all; + Oh! let me take a last imbrace, + I'm summoned, all appear in haste. + + + + +_THE_ +CONVICT'S +Farewell, +&c. &c. &c. + + + BY J PARKERSON, JUNR. + + Farewell ye partner of my woes, farewell! + The finest language can but faintly tell, + What I now feel in writing the adieu, + What you must suffer when I'm far from you. + There was a time when happiness my lot, + I liv'd serenely in my little cot; + No wicked thoughts did then disturb my rest, + My children round me, by a father prest; + No father now methinks I hear them say, + He's gone from us, he's hurried far away. + Nightly I've view'd them in my flurri'd dreams, + Seen their wet eyes and heard their dreadful screams; + Methought my wife came to my lonely cell, + To say adieu, to bid a long farewell; + Soon I awoke and to increase my pains, + I felt my legs encompass'd round with chains; + Then then, I cried, oh drunkenness thou cause, + Of this distress, and make me break those laws + That wise men made for every man to keep, + By them deluded, plung'd in crimes so deep. + First step to ruin was a love of dice, + With cards the great promoter of our vice; + I wish those men who do with such things play, + Would ever cast them from their hands away; + I wish all Magistrates would search around, + And punish Publicans where they are found: + They caus'd me first my Master to neglect, + And after lost me honest men's respect; + They also led me from a virtuous wife, + And mostly caused my sad disgrace and strife. + View Public Houses every wealthy Squire, + And force by ten the spendthrift to retire; + By such a plan the labouring poor would rise, + Soon as the sun adorns the heavenly skies: + I've stated what have brought me to this end, + And what has lost me every earthly friend; + Except a wife--oh God protect and bless, + Her and our offspring now in great distress. + Young men be cautious how you spend your time, + A bad acquaintance hurries on a crime; + Sometimes an artful female tries her power, + To trap the giddy in a thoughtless hour; + When she has work'd the captive to her will, + She gladly sees you taking sorrow's pill; + Cause you to leave a virtuous homely wife, + And lead a sad disgraceful wicked life; + Allur'd by art she'll bring you to distress, + And like a Millwood to you falsely press: + Then be the first your actions to betray, + A fiend like such, caus'd me to go astray + From them I love, from those my heart hold dear, + And shall till death their memories revere; + When I am clos'd in transport on the sea, + Doubtless my love you'll sometimes sigh for me. + Bring up my little ones in such a way, + As they will holy keep the sabbath-day; + Early in life do in their minds reveal, + The dreadful crimes to swear, to lie, or steal. + Hannah my eldest daughter, place her where, + She's constant under virtue's eye and care, + Let her not learn the weaving trade, you'll find, + That such a course may injure much her mind; + Females are ready to acquire that art, + Soon as they wish fair virtue to depart; + Unwilling oft in service for to be. + Where they can't dress and have their liberty; + But if with parents they can work at home, + Nightly they hope with idle folks to roam: + At my late sentence I can not complain, + Altho' the law my body do detain; + Justice tho' slow has overtaken me, + Abroad for life, I shall he kept from thee; + On a just God for ever I will trust, + I know his will is always right and just. + Tis now too late again to speak to you, + Which is the cause of writing this adieu. + No partner now to sooth my aching heart, + Reflection galls me, at myself I start, + With aching heart and in my lonely cell, + I bid my babes and you,--a long farewell. + Methink I see the transport full in view, + And I with horror meet the harden'd crew; + Full well I know I ne'er shall see you more, + Nor plant a footstep on my native shore; + On foreign land I'm doom'd my days to toil, + And with vile wretches cultivate the soil. + Stripes I must bare perhaps when quite unwell, + And hear the convicts' melancholy yell; + A pang I fell when e'er I close the night, + And wish a virtuous wife was in my sight: + England adieu! may you in trade increase, + And free from inward tumults rest in peace. + Our Chaplain well I know, will soon impart, + His friendly aid to cheer the drooping heart; + I hope my children he will learn to read, + And teach them early to peruse the creed: + The bell is rung, the waggon is in view, + Wife and dear children now, adieu! adieu! + At thoughts of leaving this my native shore, + Unmans me quite and I can say no more; + I will thro' life a better course pursue, + Tho' far away shall leave my heart with you. + + + + +ADVICE, &c. + + + Vile man, abstain from every artful plan, + When found out disgrace the name of man; + Let those who steal repent and sin no more, + Ere Law decrees, its vengeance on them pour: + From trifling things, we greater ills pursue, + Till the Law's fangs are brought within our view; + Stop, stop bad courses, ere it be too late, + And justice dooms you to a culprits fate. + Riots avoid tho' mischief none you do, + Your being at them brings a stain on you; + Those who look on, will afterwards repent, + And share alike in point of punishment: + The Law expressly properly declare, + He adds to tumult that is present there; + Take my advice let reason bear her sway, + From scenes of discord, always keep away; + You'd think it hard a worthless savage crew, + Should gain by plunder all your goods from you: + The worst of men are foremost on a plan, + To gain by rapine every way they can; + Do you suppose that wasting others store, + Can ease the hardships of the labouring poor: + No such a course, our present ills increase, + And robs the Nation of its inward peace. + From late example all are taught to know, + Dreadful his fate that strikes confusion's blow; + Then let us quiet at our cots remain, + And better times will cheer us once again. + All means of trying, comforts to restore, + To ease the hardships of the labouring poor; + Think what distress awaits dishonest ways, + Immur'd in prison many wretched days; + Not only days, perhaps they shed their tears, + In foreign lands for many dismal years; + Not only years, perhaps are doom'd for life, + Abroad to roam, from children, home and wife: + Should it your lot in prison for to be, + Implore with fervent prayer the Deity; + Who will in time if you sincerely pray, + Lessen your troubles each succeeding day: + It's thro' our Saviour's aid that we should crave, + A gracious pardon ere we meet the grave; + His intercession with the king of Kings, + Alone can save you from eternal stings. + When at the court for trial you appear, + Speak nought but truth you better for it fare; + For should you dare to introduce a lie, + Justice's sharp eye each falsehood will descry: + The guilty felon, of his crime is clear: + Dismay'd confus'd, he feels alas! too late, + Such impious conduct greatly aggravate; + Besides he answers at the awful day, + For causing others from the truth to stray. + Whatever happens in this vale of tears, + Our Maker knows, give him your fervent prayers: + Let your demeanor if in prison be, + Such as the jailor can contrition see; + For his report may mitigate your doom, + And sometimes save you from a prison's gloom. + Religious books if you can read attend, + They are in solitude the pris'ner's friend; + When at the Chapel, do not cast away, + By inattention what the Chaplain say: + It's pure Religion cheers each good man's heart, + And will in time its blessings soon impart; + Such as perhaps you never knew before, + And doubtless will your peace of mind restore. + The Bible read, when in your dismal cell, + Read it attentive ere you bid farewell; + To him who may companion with you be; + Your soul that night may be required of thee. + A scene I witnessed, and not long time since, + Would stop the errors of an hardened prince; + Three men were sentenc'd by the law to die, + To hear them mourn, to see the drooping eye; + Would cause sensations of a painful kind, + While anxious cares corode the tortur'd mind. + A pious Chaplain strove to bring in view, + The proferr'd pardon if repentants true. + He said that God was merciful and just, + To implore forgiveness on his word to trust; + There is a record where the scripture say, + Those that repent he will not cast away; + A sigh or tear can not that boon impart, + It must be fervent from the head and heart: + Thro' Jesus' aid vile sinners doth he save, + If true repentants ere they meet the grave. + Each wish'd they could recal the time that's past, + And they would live as if each day the last: + Just before death they pray'd me to implore, + An erring mortal to transgress no more; + Hope their lov'd Chaplain might, for ever be + When call'd on high blessed to eternity; + They knew his worth his heart is of a kind, + That plants soft pity to a feeling mind: + Deeker, as Chaplain, few can e'er excel, + Belov'd by all who bids the jail farewell. + When first I saw those wretched men in jail, + Before their trial, did their fate bewail; + Soon as the sentence met each anxious ear, + Resign'd and true repentants did appear; + One and all cried out, oh that God how just! + To stop our sad career, on thee we'll trust; + One cause alone have made this sore distress, + Neglecting lord's day and our drunkenness. + + * * * * * + + + + +_Ode to the Memory of the late lamented_ +SIR SAMUEL ROMILLY + + + Well may Britons waft the sigh, + Since Romilly's no more; + Till our existance from us fly, + We shall his loss deplore. + + Oh! death thy keen unwelcome dart, + Caus'd Briton's tears to flow; + 'Twas you compell'd him to depart, + And gave the deadly blow. + + His virtues we shall long retain, + They are planted in each breast; + Till death they will with us remain, + By all he was carest. + + I oft have heard his accents sweet, + Flow graceful from his tongue. + Applause would all his efforts greet, + For music on them hung. + + His reasoning powers none could excel, + For truth appeared in view; + As _orator_ he spoke so well, + It oft compassion drew. + + The callous heart could not refrain + To shed soft Pity's tear; + He spoke in such pathetic strain, + As caused the falling tear. + + He set the injured captive free, + Oppression wou'd subdue; + A zealous friend to liberty, + And Briton's knew it true. + + Whene'er his duty would allow, + He'd seek domestic joy; + To stern afflictions forc'd to bow, + And that all peace destroy. + + His loss, we ever shall deplore, + And may his spirit rest + With virtuous souls long call'd before, + And numbered with the blest. + + Yet ere his spirit fled away, + God summoned her above, + Who passed with him each happy day, + And gave him love for love. + + Oh may his offspring never feel, + Those pangs he did endure; + No friendly aid the wound could heal, + Nor medicine health procure. + + May our redeemer pardon gain, + For him and for us all; + Soon as we cease from earthly pain, + Or God our spirits call. + + [Picture: Decorative divider] + + Walker, Printer, near the Duke's Palace, Norwich. + + + + +AN ADDRESS +TO THE +NORFOLK YEOMAN +ON THE +_Importation of_ +FOREIGN GRAIN. + + + BY J. PARKERSON, JUN + + On Foreign grain a duty lay, + Good Ministers I pray I pray, + If you our humble suit decline, + How can we meet and take our wine; + Chat about prices at Mark Lane, + To drink a bottle an't' prophane; + Did Mr. Pitt one night decline, + To call to aid the generous wine. + C---s cannot at times keep sober, + If they are tempted by October; + Sometimes a R---t---r takes a glass + Of spirits with a pretty lass; + Another thing I can define, + A B---p may get drunk with wine; + If it is placed within his view, + He acts as other people do; + Like us sometimes is prone to sin, + When Satan is alive within; + Sometimes successful he may be, + With B---s Sir as well as we; + And oft it does my feelings shock, + To see how dizzy is their flock; + So hard will they horses ride, + As if it was their daily pride. + Themselves and order to disgrace, + By being at a Foxes chase; + To see a cock fight won't decline, + A country P---n tho' divine; + But oh! upon a sabbath day, + How grave they look how much they pray. + Perhaps for sinners in this life, + Or to chat with neighbours wife. + A P---n in a country place, + Not long ago incur'd disgrace, + A neighbour went a dame to see, + A merry one as well could be; + A cock'd hat laid upon a chair, + This Sir is true I do declare; + She call'd, she knock'd, no answer made, + Upstairs she went without perade; + The P---n quick the curtains drew, + To keep the stranger from his view; + The neighbour said I make thus free, + As you invited me to tea; + But as you have a stranger here, + I do intrude I greatly fear. + I oft have heard the people say, + She took the P---n's hat away; + But ere she reached her happy home, + The P---n to her quick did roam, + Says he good woman that's my hat! + You know not what you have been at; + Give it me and never say, + What you have witness'd and I'll pay + You well to let the matter rest, + Within your own untroubled breast + No no, says she this hat I'll give, + Your wife as I do hope to live; + And tell her where I found it laid, + My trouble will be well repaid; + So R---d Sir to you adieu, + Your conduct I'll expose to view. + I'll speak of foreign grain again, + Hope your attention to detain; + Let Ministers a duty lay, + And make the foreign farmer pay + A certain sum on all he send, + Of grain into this fertile land. + Corn Laws are needless I protest, + To be without them would be best; + When crops are thin then grain would sell, + No doubt in Mark Lane very well: + At such a year then foreign grain, + Would flock into our ports again; + Soon an 'twas found enough was sent, + To answer every good intent, + A privy council should declare, + No more should come the present year; + We give to foreign farmers aid, + And starve our own I am afraid. + Free the farmer of all taxes, + The present ones their minds perplexes; + Double or quit the landlords say, + Ease the farmer, _make them_ pay. + Their farms produce them such high price, + In paying taxes can't be nice; + Let P---s ease the farmers cares, + Theirs is all wheat they get no tares: + The tithes they have advanced so high, + That make the farmer almost cry, + Compel them to throw back a part, + At least a tenth to cheer the heart; + Out of the sum that's paid for tithe, + That would the farmers mind revive + And tenth of rent they ought to pay, + To drive the farmers grief away: + Yeomen are forced to go to plough, + Then make a P---n milk a cow; + Keep sheep that task they can't decline, + Or help to feed the fowls and swine. + I think that is a cleaver plan, + 'Twould often save a lad or man; + And as they share a tenth produce, + They are bound to make themselves of use; + They ought to teach the youth the creed, + And little girls to spell and read: + They like a fox chase or a play, + To kill the vacant time away; + Or cards or balls or such like things, + Fit only for the eye of Kings. + On Sundays see how quick they walk + Into a church to preach or talk; + So quick they'll range the sermon o'er, + As you their folly must deplore. + A pointer and a spaniel lay, + Behind the R--t--r. when he pray; + And now and then the dogs will bark, + Which much disturb the sleepy clerk; + He takes and pull them by the ears, + Which much disturb the man of prayers. + Soon as he thinks his dinner's fit, + He hurries home to ease the spit: + Thank God he has no more to pray, + To clowns until next sabbath day; + When that arrives oh how he sigh, + To know his trouble is so nigh! + Reluctant he to church repair, + Yet not omit to view the fair: + So as to catch the darting eye, + The P---n give when he descry; + She is at leisure to impart, + A smile to cheer his drooping heart: + Soon as he leaves the sacred place, + He anxiously the female trace, + To pass with her a merry joke, + Or else her passion to invoke, + In such a way as suits his mind, + If she is to sly fun inclined. + Many a poor man feeds a boy, + Where P---s leisure time employ; + A poor man's wife I've seen dress fine, + And gain the means from a D--e; + If they have money for to spare, + They'll will bestow it on the fair + The Cambridge ladies know it well, + I only do the truth now tell; + I've known a footman gain a place, + To save a C---e from disgrace; + He gains a calf as well as cow, + To manage matters they know how; + Poor Tom don't mind if he can find, + The P---n have a generous mind; + They always should to business stick, + Correct their flock read to the sick; + Too oft they do that task delay, + They are the first to go astray. + They ne'er should be a M---g---e, + It makes the people oft them hate; + From them no milk of kindness flow, + It's seldom mercy they will show. + Too oft they do to prison send, + A man his future life to mend; + He learns in such a place to be, + A hardened villian you may see. + Soon as his liberty he gain, + From acts of tumult wont abstain; + From every virtue he's bereft, + By company he's lately kept; + Small faults it's better to look o'er, + And tell them for to sin no more: + A bridewell often inmates have, + Who do for others riches crave: + In the same cell a boy is placed, + That have incur'd some slight disgrace; + Often he's placed with such a man + As teach him mischief all he can. + The boy goes out well versed in art, + That his late inmates did impart; + As soon as he his freedom gain, + Do that which causeth grief and pain; + Grown more familiar to a plan, + Of robbing others all he can. + And whilst in prison he was taught, + To tell a lie to screen a fault; + His brother prisoners did him teach, + To crib all trifles in his reach; + Too oft he's led by poachers where + To fang a bird or catch a hare: + And by advice he choose a spot + Where rambling Keepers see him not. + Poachers I think are less to blame + Then those that often buy the game. + There is a God that dwells on high, + Who will all mortals faults descry; + Should he no mercy to them show, + And send the men of prayers below, + Where Satan dwells and where he reigns, + To plant on sinners chains and pains; + With man let mercy constant rest, + For ever in the mind and breast. + Mercy I fear they never knew, + Or if they did it from them flew; + For virtue only can be found, + Where hearts are good minds are sound; + Humanity few e'er possess'd, + They cannot keep it in their breast. + No, arrogance and pride there dwell, + The poor around all know it well; + Seldom will ope a gaudy door, + To give a penny to the poor: + Yet glad would do it any day, + To turn the applicant away; + Or else to prison send the man, + And gladly punish all they can. + All fain would be a Demi God, + To hold the sharp chastising rod; + Esteem'd by few, by none revered, + And by the poor man greatly feared; + No longer I'll this theme pursue, + But bid the haughty Sirs, adieu. + A good divine shall be my theme, + The villiage did him much esteem; + A poor distress'd Italian youth, + Whose features bore the marks of truth; + Call'd at the parson's door to say, + The night was dark he'd lost his way; + The good divine observed the lad + Was sorrowful and thinly clad, + "Step in" says he and shut the door, + "Sometimes I feed the needy poor. + Your outward guarb bespeaks distress, + This night I'll make your troubles less." + The youth with gratitude replied, + To earn my living is my pride; + Pictures I sell and glasses too, + Much cheaper then you'll find a jew; + And soon most pleasing to his eye, + Was ushered a good mutton pie; + And further to afford relief, + Beside the pye a piece of beef; + And likewise quick his heart to cheer, + Between the two a pint of beer. + All night he staid the morning came, + The Parson asked the boy his name; + My name is luckless he replies, + Tears were streaming from his eyes; + Pray do you like this wandering life, + No says the lad it causeth strife. + A joiners business sir I crave, + From selling pictures could I save + Enough, I'd soon a master find, + And to him myself I'd bind. + The Parson soon a master found, + Cloathed the youth and gave ten pound. + He served his time so well 'tis said, + As soon his charity repaid. + He gained a living by his trade, + The Parson gave without parade. + And at the Reverend's death 'twas found, + He left his boy five hundred pound, + He call'd the boy tho' grown a man, + Excel this action if you can. + + [Picture: Decorative divider] + + Printed by R. Walker, Norwich. + + + + +A Description of the Pine-apple at Trowse. + + + Both beauty and art have exerted their skill, + You will find on a spot near the brow of a hill; + The hill is near Norwich and call'd Bracondale, + I stept into Vince's myself to regale. + The landlord I found Sir adopted one plan, + To please all his customers all that he can; + Some Topsmen I found had come to the spot, + To look at their darlings, each good hardy Scot; + When business was o'er they did not decline, + To take a few bottles of Vince's port wine; + The flavour was such they could not refrain, + To fill up a bumper again and again. + I found these good fellows are men of sense, + That to learning and knowledge may lay a pretence; + Most of these gentlemen always can find, + A stranger's good converse to cherish the mind. + When they went away, in the garden, I stray'd, + And do not repent there a visit I paid, + There was pinks, there was roses, and cucumbers too, + And peas of the finest I ever did view: + The evergreens pleas'd me their odour was sweet, + And a thousand of other sweet shrubs did I meet, + But oh what sweet pleasures your mind to fulfil. + Is the view that you have on the top of the hill. + The river delighteth the mind and the eye + On which you see wherries constant pass by, + Besides there is barges that proudly do ride, + With packets to Yarmouth assisted by tide; + There's low-lands and up-lands that gladden the sight, + And a thousand sweet objects the mind to delight + And such view of the city as must please the eye, + A thousand old buildings you there may descry; + Oh this is a garden I said to myself, + That was I a man that had plenty of wealth, + I would ramble to daily, myself to regale, + For Vince I well know have some fine flavour'd ale; + And those that have tasted his porter declare, + That two or three glasses the spirits will cheer; + Here's Jamaca Rum that will gladden the heart + The flavour of which will much pleasure impart; + His Hollands you'd find would soon make you merry, + And your cheeks my good Sir look as red as a cherry; + But oh for his Brandy put that in a bowl, + With his very strong Rum & 'twould soon cheer the soul. + His best English Gin will banish all care, + If you take but enough I vow and declare; + He keeps Cows to afford you a little good stuff, + If you only will add to it Rum quite enough; + Besides with your Hautboys he will find you cream + Now do not suppose that this is a dream; + Step into Vince's and you'll find it true, + That what I have stated may be found by you; + For your steed or you poney there's a stable I say, + That is kept clean and neat with the finest of hay. + And his friends from the north who do bullocks sell, + Know that he lodges their cattle quite well; + He has all the means to keep them clean & warm, + And shelter those creatures from rain & from storm + There's plenty of acres to give them full scope, + And plenty of feed if their mouths they will ope; + Their bellies they may most rapidly fill, + To give them a plenty I know is his will; + I have oft heard him say that he great pleasure take, + In providing for stock for each owner's sake, + And that he determines no pains he would spare, + To take care of cattle that's under his care; + Indeed I believe that all his friends find, + To afford satisfaction he's always inclin'd; + And all those that think proper at his house to stray, + Shall never have cause to complain when away: + He thanks all his friends for each favour that's past, + And hopes that each visit will not be the last; + His efforts to please them he'll strongly renew, + And each friend that call shall soon find it true; + Most fully determined such liquor to sell, + As all shall declare that they like it quite well; + I believe that in summer no spot is more fit, + To brace up the nerves to those that need it. + The air is so fine that it cherish the frame, + Besides there's another great pleasure I'll name, + But a very short mile and the journey is o'er, + Ere they can walk in at the Pine-apple door; + I mean for those friends who for pleasure do stray + That near is the distance as I have heard say, + I'm sure that no one will have cause to repine, + At the distance from Norwich when wheather is fine, + The garden produces such store sir in May, + As induce you to take some on going away; + Cucumbers and other things there you may buy, + So early I'm told as delighteth the eye, + To do it no pains nor expences he spare, + That Vince's good friends may have something that's rare; + Another thing early the Ladies to please, + He grows in the garden the sweetest of peas, + And if in the spring there are nice cooling showers, + The same time will send them the choisest of flowers, + The garden most people from Norwich invite, + As that is his pride and daily delight; + There are seats and good harbours your time to invite, + When smoaking your pipe to afford you delight, + The house tho' not gaudy is always kept clean, + Or at least I do say as mostly is seen; + He keeps lively fires in winter I'm told, + To keep his good friends when there catching cold, + And oh his tobacco most people approve, + It handles you'll find quite as soft as a dove; + His pipes are glaz'd high you will find at the end, + Such as you'd wish to bestow on a friend. + Indeed in the mansion no pains will he spare, + To gain him applause or your spirits to cheer; + He's grateful to all both rich and poor, + That choose to step in at the Pine-apple door. + He wish all to spend no more than they please, + To joke, drink, and laugh, & be merry at ease, + Harmonious parties he likes for to see, + That delight in good friendship and sing a good glee, + A song now and then will enliven the heart, + And make us unwilling till late to depart. + + + + +THE WIVERTON BOY; +_Or_, _Sailor Returned_. + + + On Wiverton Green a boy was found, + Weeping his fate upon the ground; + Compassion soon the helpless drew, + To give him aid they instant flew; + The overseer quick took the youth, + Matured him in the paths of truth; + At proper age they sought to find, + What calling suited best his mind; + Upon the main he wished to try, + His fortune and his destiny. + Quick to a merchant ship was sent, + He braved the stormy eliment; + Intrepid courage gave him aid, + And due attention well he paid, + To every order that he heard, + And by the crew was much revered; + At riper years became a mate, + In the same ship he tried his fate; + His master died he took his place, + His tutor he did not disgrace, + He soon became a man of wealth, + Adorned with riches, strength, and health. + Tired of the sea he came on shore, + His Wiverton friends to see once more. + Each hailed the happy pleasing day, + They view'd the orphan nam'd Greenway. + The tear of sorrow from him flew, + When he the fatal spot did view; + Says he this village fostered me, + Till I embarked upon the sea. + Part of my earnings will I give, + That poorer souls may better live; + He bought the Briston tithes to do + A generous act outdone by few; + And soon as bought gave them away, + To those that named him young Greenway. + In trust to aid the needy poor, + Who will till death his name adore. + Owing to times it will be found, + These tithes have fetched three hundred pound; + And Wiverton poor have every year, + A sum that keeps them from despair; + And oft they cry we bless the day, + That brought to us our good Greenway. + + Knighted Sir Richard Greenway. + + FINIS. + +{1} The composition of this eText follows the ordering of the original +in Norwich Millennium Library, England. 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