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Without her all other enjoyments are vain,
Without her, &c. To ambition and power let their votaries attend, And for glory the hero in warfare contend; With the fair, love and friendship our time we'll
employ, And with them, free from peril, true pleasure
. enjoy: Then fill up a bumper and drink it my boys, To the fair, whence our dearest enjoyments arise.
Then fill up a bumper, &c.
ROBERT and RICHARD :
QUOTH Richard to Bob, “Let things go as
" they will, « Of pleasure and fun I will still have my fill; " In frolic and mirth I see nothing amiss, " And tho' I get tipsy, what harm is in this? 6. For ev’n Solomon says, and I vow he says truth, " Rejoice O young man, in the days of thy youth." " I'm glad," answered Bob, “you’r of Solomon's
o screed, “ But I beg, if you quote him, you'll please to
“ proceed; " For God (as the wise man continues to sing) “ Thy soul into judgment for all this will bring. « Thus a man may get plung'd in a woeful abyss, « By choosing to say, Pray what harm is in this?
« Come, come” says gay Richard," don't grudge
" me a cup, 66 I'm resolv'd while I'm able, I'll still keep it up : 6. Let old greybeards deny that in frolic there's bliss, " I'll game love and drink---and what harm is in
"this ." Says Robert, “I grant if you live for today, “You may game, love, and drink, and may frolic
"away ; * But then my dear Dick, I again must contend, " That the Wise Man has bid us-Remember the
"end!" Says Richard, “When sickness or peevish old age "Shall advance to dismiss me from life's merry
"stage; “Repentance just then, Boy, may not be amiss, < But while young I'll be jolly, what harm is in this ??? They parted; and Richard his pastimes begun, 'Twas Richard the jovial, the soul of all fun :' Each dancing bout, drinking bout, Dick would
attend, And he sung and he swore, nor once thought of the
end. Young Molly he courted, the pride of the plain, He promis'd her marriage, but promis'd in vain; She trusted his vows, but she soon was undone, And when she lamented, he thought it good fun. Thus scorn:d by Richard, sad Molly run wild, And roam'd through the woods with her destitute
child; Till Molly and Molly's poor baby were found, One evening, in Richard's own mill-pond both
drown'd. Then his conscience grew troubled by night an
and by day, But its clámour he drown'd in more drink and
more play; Still Robert exhorted, and like a true friend He warn'd him and pray'd him to think on the end!
Now disturb’d in his dreams, poor Molly each
night, With her babe stood before him, how sad was the
sight! O how ghastly she look'd as she bade him attend, And so awfully told him, “ Remember the end." She talk'd of the woes and unquenchable fire, i Which await the licentious, the drunkard and liar; How he ruin'd more maidens she bade him beware, Then she wept, and she groan'd, and she vanish'd
in air. Now beggar'd by gaming, distemper'd by drink, Death star'd in his face, yet he dar'd not to think Despairing of mercy, despising all truth, He dy'd of old age in the prime of his youth. On his tomb-stone, good Robert, these verses en
gravid, Which he hop'd some gay fellow might read and be sav'd.
HERE lies a poor youth, who call'd drinking his
THE RIOT: OR, HALF A LOAF IS BETTER
THAN NO BREAD. . In a Dialogue between Jack Anuil and Tom Hod. To the Tune of “ A Cobler there was.”
TOM. COME, neighbours, no longer be patient and quiet' Come let us go kick up a bit of a riot ;
I'm hungry, my lads, but I've little to eat,
Derry down. Then his pitchfork Tom seiz'd-Hold a moment,
says Jack, I'll shew thee thy blunder, brave boy, in a crack, And it I don't prove we had better be still, I'll assist thee straightway to pull down every mill; I'll show thee how passion thy reason does cheat, Or I'll join thee in plunder for bread and for meat.
Derry down. What a whimsey to think thus our bellies to fill, For we stop all the grinding by breaking the mill! What a whimsey to think we shall get more to eat By abusing the butchers who get us the meat! What a whimsey to think we shall mend our spare
diet By breeding disturbance, by murder and riot!
Derry down, Because I am dry, 'twould be foolish I think, To pull out my tap and to spill all my drink; Because I am hungry and want to be fed, That is sure no wise reason for wasting my bread: And just such wise reasons for mending their diet Are us’d by those blockheads who rush into riot.
Derry down. I would not take comfort from others distresses, But still I would mark how God our land blesses; For tho' in Old England the times are but sad, Abroad I am told they are ten times as bad ; In the land of the Pope there is scarce any grain, And 'tis worse still, they say, both in Holland and Spain,
Derry down. Let us look to the harvest our wants to beguile, See the lands with rich crops how they every where smile!
Meantime to assist us, by each Western breeze,
home, Had you spent them in labour you must have had some.
Derry down. 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, And I pray for a peace ev'ry night of my life; But in matters of state not an inch will I budge, Because I conceive I'm no very good judge.
Derry down. But tho' poor, I can work, my brave boy, with the
best, Let the King and the Parliament manage the rest; I lament both the War and the Taxes together, Tho' I verily think they don't alter the weather. The King, as I take it, with very good reason, May prevent a bad law, but can't help a bad season.
Derry down. The parliament men, altho' great is their power, Yet they cannot contrive us a bit of a shower; And I never yet heard, tho' 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.