Characters from Life Part 1

Characters from Life.

by James Parkerson.

ADMONITIONS TO THE DISSIPATED.

[Picture: Decorative divider]

Excess to mankind oft'times brings, Remorse with all its bitter stings; When cares oppress us in this life.

At times we drink to banish strife; But when its feeble aid is o'er, We are more wretched then before.

Oft poverty the man disgrace, And shows a drunkard in his face; Suppose he is a man of wealth, Excess of liquor injures health; Not only health but sad to name, Such characters the sober blame.

The artful villain tries his skill, When Bacchus gains us to his will; At such unguarded times disclose, What makes our valued friends our foes; And many an injured wife declares That Bacchus cause her many tears.

The husband oft to harlots stray, Whene'er he bears a sovereign's sway; And by his aid the thoughtless youth, Is led from virtues paths and truth: Oh gentle youth the harlot's smile, Is given only to beguile; Their conversation so impure, That men of sense them can't endure; Be chaste in every thought I pray, Sweet modesty will gain the day; Bacchus with her can not contend, She is to every youth a friend.

Oft do I see a good man's son, By harlots ruined and undone; A tipling farmer oft complain, Much is too low the price of grain; He must acknowledge oft he meet, His wealthy landlord in the street; On Sat.u.r.days his landlord roam, A few miles from his gaudy home; To this tho' ancient pretty city, To see a play denoted pretty: Oft in the boxes folks call green, The tenant with his wife is seen; His spending money in that way, Good sense and learning then display; When farmers hurt themselves is clear, Is riding home and drunk appear.

Driving their horses at a rate, As plain foretell they staid too late; The gig turn'd o'er an arm is broke, Don't this his landlord much provoke.

Some neighbour who may want his farm, Take care the village to alarm; Informs his neighbours he can't pay His t.i.the till sold both corn and hay; And to his landlord slyly state, That ruin'd soon must be his fate; His neighbour was in liquor found, Senseless and bleeding on the ground; On going home he drove so fast, As if each minute was his last; He'd broke his gig and spoilt his mare, This Sir is true I do declare; What I now state to others name, And they will tell you just the same; Sir cried the landlord in a pat, He knows not what he would be at; Quickly his mind I will alarm, For I will turn him out his farm; To me he's tenant but at will, Soon soon he'll be on Castle-Hill; I instant will the sot distress, And others will him sharply press; Sir cries his neighbour should that be, I hope you'll give me liberty; To offer you a great deal more, Then ere you let his farm before; I have two bondsmen at my call, One lives you know at such a hall; The other friend is Banker Steady, They both to serve me Sir are ready!

Sir cries the landlord you keep sober, And only drink your own October; I'll promise what you've ask'd of me, And you my tenant soon shall be; I'll send the bailiffs on his place, And that will bring him to disgrace; The slanderer says pray sir don't state, What I to you this day relate; No says the landlord, I'll not say, What you have told me on this day; This slanderer I do know well, And only do the truth now tell; Most farmers whose estates are large, Their public duty well discharge; They live on such a handsome plan, As note and mark them gentlemen; I do protest it is great pity, Some drink so hard when in this city; As when rattling o'er the stones, They break a poor old woman's bones; Or by his trotting horse knock'd down, Before he leaves a market town; I do but state what many view, And Norwich surgeons know its true.

Good farmers I do much esteem, And therefore make them oft my theme; May every farmer when he dine, Have means to drink a pint of wine.

ON VIEWING THE CATTLE MARKET ON THE CASTLE HILL.

The wealthy farmer with a rosy hue, Weekly attends the hardy scot to view; The pretty homebred soon his eye detain, Views and admires, then chat in lively strain; Of natures produce till his business call Him from such pleasing sights to pace the hall; Soon as he sees his merchant at his stand, He shows the produce of his fertile land; I'll give you such a price the merchant say, A higher bidder you'll not find this day.

But ere the farmer quits the hill he view, All other stock to find out something new; A thought then strikes him as the season's fine, I'll buy a few score sheep before I dine; Into the pens he hies, the bargain struck, The jobber takes his cash, wish him good luck.

Prehaps his steed don't travel to his mind, Looks at the nags, and do a good one find; The price he thinks too high, but not refrain, Making another bid the horse to gain; The dealer tempted by the offer say, Sir I'll comply don't hurry so away; Lets take a gla.s.s of wine to wish success To your new purchase-hard the farmer press, The nag is taken from the stand with glee; Another takes his place with broken knee, The buyer says what have you standing here?

A damaged one a tumbling one I fear; Sir cries the dealer as your land is light, Take him for plough he's pretty to the sight; No it can't be, you must be in a joke, Sure I can't see, or else his knees are broke; But Sir the price I ask will claim a bid, I have so many that I want to rid; Ten guineas for him Sir to you I'll take, A useful one to you I'm sure he'll make: The farmer cries before I quit the ground, I'll make an offer which is Sir ten pound; It is accepted-and away goes nag, The wealthy farmer draws the canvas bag.

Now to the tavern blithsome they repair, Take wine and wish that liquor wan't so dear; Looks at his watch, then loud the buyer cry, Its half past one, I to the hall must hie!

Sell as much corn as shall be in my power, I'm much afraid the markets will be lower.

I've sold he cried my wheat and barley well, I wish I could my oats and horse beans sell; Straight to his merchant 'gain the farmer hop, Fearful next market day all things will drop; The cautious merchant on his skill rely, And thinks Mark-Lane will have a small supply; Contrary winds will keep the vessels back, And in his purchase he will not be slack.

Only one thought now hara.s.s much his brain, He fears to Banker's shop to go again; Least he should meet rebuke and irksome scorn, On casting up he found he'd overdrawn A running mortgage please the banker's mind, Gains it and to the merchant is more kind; But disappointment all his efforts blast, A large supply is usher'd in at last; Mark-Lane is full and markets now decline, A large supply and weather very fine; The malsters leaving off they'll wet no more, And only clear what is upon the floor; Merchants there are now dwelling in this place, That often routs their handsome houses grace; Gigs very fine a livery servant too, Is always kept to hide what's known by few; That his expences far exceeds his gain, And that the banker mortgages retain; On each estate the gaudy thing has bought, And that in real wealth not worth a groat.

Still he goes on till on a sudden stray, Away awhile and cant the farmer pay; Flies to his factor in the time of need, For an advance but do not there succeed.

Some characters like those I do know well, They can't last long they cut so great a swell; Oft do we see a very handsome coach, A merchant sport, and meriting reproach; Because full well he knows his books must show, His ranting on has brought him very low; When that's the case too often others find, A gig or coach is kept the eye to blind; To every honest man I wish success, And may misfortune never on them press.

THE LION AND THE _ORANGE GROVE_.

Three Jackalls were a prawling sent It is supposed with ill intent, At least to make a prey: On any thing they saw was good; So das.h.i.+ng furious in a wood, They seiz'd without delay,

An Orange Tree well hung with fruit, It apt the Lion's taste to suit, By Jackalls forced away.

The owner of the tree declares, He'll strip the Lion of his ears, Or make him sharply pay.

So to it furiously they went, He'll make the Lion soon repent, For seizing others store.

He crav'd for mercy night and day; The Owner of the fruit won't stay!

But will him sadly gore.

Sharp pains ran down his aching side, The Lion on his knees loud cried, I will do so no more.

The orange man declar'd with glee, Your minion sha'nt have liberty To enter here no more.

Ne'er shall you have the power to take My fruit away for hunger sake, But I will have a change; My tale of woe none can deny, You know your master dwells on high, He soon will stop your range.

He wears a fur more grand to view, And is more merciful than you, Your arrogance he'll stop; He'll quickly with a little chain, Your nightly prowlings soon restrain; And your ambition lop.

He was allowed no more to stray, With hungry Jackalls night or day; Where Orange trees are seen.

It serv'd him right to stop his power, Or he would each succeeding hour, Pluck Oranges too green.

Besides there is a law that's known, We should take nothing but our own, From either beast or man.

Tho' power is given to us here, We should the little lambs revere, And serve them if we can.

I hope this will a warning prove, To other Lions in the grove, Who may hereafter stray: By power or order to a place, And not incur the like disgrace, We witness'd t'other day.

The low bred minions seek to bind, The smaller ones of gentler kind, But in this happy Isle; A savage beast is laid aside, For every Reptile to deride, Or hourly to revile.

THE CONVICT'S FAREWELL.

[Picture: Decorative divider]

Farewell ye partner of my woes, farewell!

The finest language could but faintly tell, What I now feel in writing this 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 encompa.s.s'd round with chains; Then, then I cried oh drunkenness thou cause, Of this distress, and made 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 caused 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 me 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 G.o.d protect and bless, Her and our offspring now in great distress.

Young men be cautious how ye 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 caused 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 be kept from thee; On a just G.o.d 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.

Methinks 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 foot-step on my native sh.o.r.e; On foreign land I'm doom'd my days to toil, And with vile wretches cultivate the soil.

Stripes I must bear perhaps when quite unwell, And hear the convicts' melancholy yell; A pang I feel 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 sh.o.r.e, Unmans me quite and I can say no more; I will thro' life, a better course pursue, Tho' far away still leave my heart with you.

_ADVICE_, &c.