Then she wept, and she groan'd, and she va- | With grief the cause I must relate, HERE lies a poor youth, who call'd drinking end! THE CARPENTER: Or, the Danger of Evil Company. THERE was a young west countryman, A carpenter by trade, A skilful wheelright too was he, And few such wagons made. In sooth it was enough, A little cottage too he had, For ease and comfort plann'd; And that he might not lack for aught, A pleasant orchard too there was Of cider and of corn likewise, He had a little store. Active and healthy, stout and young, No business wanted he; Now tell me, reader, if you can ; What man more blest could be? Where is the lord, or where the squire, Which blest his prosp'rous days? While he caress'd his child. One bloooming babe was all he had, His only darling dear, The object of their equal love, The solace of their care. ( what could ruin such a life, And spoil so fair a lot? what could change so kind a heart, The dismal cause reveal; 'Twas EVIL COMPANY and DRINK, The source of ev'ry ill. cooper came to live hard by, Who did his fancy please; An idle rambling man was he, A Who oft had cross'd the seas. This man could tell a merry tale, And sing a merry song; To hear the cooper talk; Was all for which he car'd; To swear like him soon dar'd. For work he little car'd; No prayers could now prevail, Were with the cooper past; No handsome Sunday suit was left, No more his church he did frequent, The week days must be bad. Were pawn'd, till none were left; By chance he call'd at home one night, He bade his weeping wife to get Whence could he then be fed ! His wife a piteous sigh did heave, And then before him laid, A basket cover'd with a cloth, And saw his child lie there. O kill us both-'twere kinder far, His wife forgave him all the past; And much he griev'd that e'er he wrong'd By lab'ring hard, and working late, His cottage was at length redeem'd, The drunkard murders child and wife, THE RIOT: OR, HALF A LOAF IS BETTER THAN NO BREAD. To the tune of A cobler there was.' Meantime to assist us, by each western breeze! [seas! Some corn is brought daily across the salt Of tea we'll drink little, of gin not at all, And we'll patiently wait, and the prices will Derry Down. fall. But if we're not quiet, then let us not won- Written in ninety-five, a year of scarcity and On those days spent in riot no bread you Alarm. COME neighbours, no longer be patient and Come let us go kick up a bit of a riot; all the meat : brought home, Had you spent them in labour you must have had some. A dinner of herbs, says the wise man, with quiet, Is better than beef amid discord and riot. If the thing could be help'd I'm a foe to all strife, [saw, [life; I'll give you good sport, boys, as ever you But in matters of state not an inch will I And I pray for a peace ev'ry night of my So a fig for the justice, a fig for the law, Derry Down. budge, Then his pitchfork Tom seiz'd-hold a moment, says Jack, [crack, I show thee thy blunder, brave boy, in a And if I don't prove we had better be still, I'll assist thee straitway to pull down ev'ry mill; [cheat, I show thee how passion thy reason does • See Berquin's Gardener. Because I conceive I'm no very good judge. Let the king and the parliament manage I the rest; lament both the war and the taxes together, Though I verily think they don't alter the weather. The king, as I take it, with very good rea- | How thankful was Joseph when matters son, season. May prevent a bad law, but can't help a bad Derry Down. The parliament men, although great is their power, Yet they cannot contrive us a bit of a shower; And I never yet heard, though our rulers are wise, That they know very well how to manage the skies; For the best of them all, as they found to their cost, Were not able to hinder last winter's hard frost. Derry Down. Besides, I must share in the wants of the times, Because I have had my full share in its crimes; And I'm apt to believe the distress which is sent, Is to punish and cure us of all discontent. But harvest is coming-potatoes are come! Our prospect clears up; ye complainers be dumb! Derry down. And though I've no money, and though I've no lands, [good hands. I've head on my shoulders, and a pair of So I'll work the whole day, and on Sundays I'll seek [week. At church how to bear all the wants of the The gentlefolks too will afford us supplies; They'll subscribe-and they'll give up their puddings and pies. Derry down. Then before I'm induc'd to take part in a riot, [get by it? I'll ask this short question-what shall I So I'll e'en wait a little till cheaper the bread, [head: For a mittimus hangs o'er each rioter's And when of two evils I'm ask'd which is best, I'd rather be hungry than hang'd, I protest. Derry down. Quoth Tom, thou art right, If I rise I'm a Turk: So he threw down his pitchfork, and went went well! [good health, How sincere were his carols of praise for And how grateful for any increase in his wealth! In trouble he bow'd him to God's holy will; How contented was Joseph when matters went ill! [stood. When rich and when poor he alike underThat all things together were working for good. [clar'd, If the land was afflicted with war, he de'Twas a needful correction for sins which he shar'd, [to cease, And when merciful Heav'n bade slaughter How thankful was Joe for the blessing of peace! [dear, When taxes ran high, and provisions were Still Joseph declar'd he had nothing to fear; It was but a trial he well understood, From Him who made all work together for good. Though his wife was but sickly, his gettings but small, [all; Yet a mind so submissive prepar'd him for He liv'd on his gains were they greater or less, [bless. And the giver he ceas'd not each moment to Wheu another child came he receiv'd him with joy, [the boy; And Providence bless'd who had sent him But when the child dy'd-said poor Joe I'm content, For God had a right to recall what he lent. It was Joseph's ill fortune to work in a pit With some who believ'd that profaneness was wit; [they show'd, When disasters befel him much pleasure And laugh'd and said-Joseph, will this work for good? But ever when these would profanely ad vance That this happen'd by luck, and that hap[pen'd by chance; Still Joseph insisted no chance could be found, [ground. Not a sparrow by accident falls to the Among his companions who work'd in the pit, [wit, And made him the butt of their profligate Was idle Tim Jenkins, who drank and who gam'd, [asham'd. Who mock'd at his Bible, and was not And they chatted, preparing to go under One day at the pit his old comrades he found, ground, Tim Jenkins, as usual, was turning to jest, Joe's notion that all things which happen'd were best. cost. Tis my duty to try to recover my meat.' So saying, he followed the dog a long round, While Tim, laughing and swearing, went down under ground. [was lost, Poor Joe soon return'd, though his bacon For the dog a good dinner had made at his [sneer, When Joseph came back he expected a But the face of each collier spoke horror and fear; [all said, What a narrow escape hast thou had, they The pit's fall'n in, and Tim Jenkins is dead How sincere was the gratitude Joseph express'd ! [his breast! How warm the compassion which glow'd in Thus events great and small, if aright understood, [good. Will be found to be working together for 'When my meat,' Joseph cry'd was just now stol'n away, And I had no prospect of eating to-day, How could it appear to a short-sighted sinner, That my life would be sav'd by the loss of my dinner,' THE GIN SHOP: OR A PEEP INTO PRISON. Look through the land from north to south, Of life the deadliest pest. A self-inflicted curse. Go where you will, throughout the realm, You'll find the reigning sin, In cities, villages, and towns, -The monster's name is Gin. His honest name and health. But, drunkards, to your wives and babes, The taxes altogether lay No weight so great as Gin. The tenderest heart that nature made, Are poorly cloth'd and fed, Because the craving Gin-shop takes The children's daily bread. Come, neighbour, take a walk with me, Through many a London street, And see the cause of penury In hundreds we shall meet. We shall not need to travel farBehold that great man's door; He well discerns yon idle crew From the deserving poor. He will relieve with liberal hand, The child of honest thrift; But where long scores at Gin-shops stand, He will withhold his gift. Behold that shivʼring female there, Who plies her woful trade! 'Tis ten to one you'll find that Gin That hopeless wretch has made. Look down those steps, and view below Yon cellar under ground, There ev'ry want and ev'ry wo And ev'ry sin is found. Were by their parents' love of Gin, Blest be those friends to human kind Look through that prison's iron bars, Look through that dismal grate, And learn what dire misfortune brought So terrible a fate. The debtor and the felon too, Though differing much in sin, Yet Heav'n forbid I should confound Or name the debtor's lesser fault With blood of brother spilt. To prison dire misfortune oft The guiltless debtor brings; From Gin the misery springs. No book-debts kept him from his cash, To fail he never knew. How amply had his gains suffic'd But all must for his pleasures go, All to the Gin-shop went. But hackney'd long in sin, The Philanthropic Society. Alas! 'twas love of Gin. That serving man-I knew him once, So jaunty, spruce, and smart ! Why did he steal, then pawn the plate? Thus Gin ensnar'd his heart. But hark! what dismal sound was that? 'Tis Saint Sepulchre's bell! It tolls, alas, for human guilt, Some malefactor's knell. O! woful sound! O! what could cause Such punishment and sin? Hark! hear his words, he owns the causeBad Company and Gin. And when the future lot is fix'd Of darkness, fire, and chains, For if the murd'rer's doom'd to wo, TALES. THE TWO GARDENERS. Two gardeners once beneath an oak, Lay down to rest, when Jack thus spoke : You must confess dear Will that Nature Is but a blund'ring kind of creature ; And I-nay, why that look of terror? Could teach her how to mend her error.' Your talk,' quoth Will, is bold and odd, What you call Nature, I call God.' Well, call him by what name you will,' Quoth Jack, he manages but ill; Nay, from the very tree we're under, I'll prove that Providence can blunder.' Quoth Will, Through thick and thin you dash, . I shudder Jack, at words so rash; · To Prove that Providence can err, Not words but facts the truth aver. To this vast oak lift up thine eyes, Then view that acorn's paltry size; How foolish on a tree so tall, To place that tiny cup and ball. Now look again, yon pompion* see, It weighs two pound at least, nay three; Yet this large fruit, where is it found? Why, meanly trailing on the ground. Had Providence ask'd my advice, I would have chang'd it in a trice; I would have said at Nature's birth, Let Acorns creep upon the earth; But let the pompion, vast and round, On the oak's lofty boughs be found.' He said-and as he rashly spoke, Lo! from the branches of the oak, A wind, which suddenly arose, Beat show'rs of acorns on his nose; Oh! oh :' quoth Jack, I'm wrong I see, And God is wiser far than me. For did a show'r of pompions large, Thus on my naked face discharge, I had been bruis'd and blinded quite, What heav'n appoints I find is right; Whene'er I'm tempted to rebel, I'll think how light the acorns fell; Whereas on cak's had pompions hung, My broken skull had stopp'd my tongue. • A Gourd. THE LADY AND THE PYE: A WORTHY Squire of sober life I ne'er had ruin'd all mankind; The squire reply'd; I fear 'tis true, The squire, some future day at dinner, On one small dish which cover'd stands, Or henceforth you're no more my wife.' |