FullReads

Reflect ere death, call you away,
To answer at the awful day;
Your thousands cannot purchase life,
But as you waste it cause you strife.
Many a pang you’ve felt of late,
I must pronounce you vile ingrate;
By art you gain a Lady’s smile,
Soon as acquired would her beguile;
Careless the pangs a husband feel,
To you I make this sad appeal;
Was you a married man what pain,
Was e’er a faithless friend to gain.
Your wife’s affection from your view,
And bid each moral plan adieu;
This truth to you I’m sure is known,
Then scan such case as if your own:
Juries are often kind its true,
I’m sure they have been so to you.
There is a judge that dwells on high,
Will all the arts of man descry:
Admit you didn’t your game obtain,
Did you from wicked thoughts abstain?
While ranging o’er the shady grove,
Doubtless you thought of nought but love;
The prying eye of searching man,
Foil’d in its bud your artful plan.
The education of this age,
Makes fit the wanton to engage;
On lavities unblushing plan,
With many a vile unthinking man.
Wealth may a short time foibles blind,
But, does it ease the guilty mind?
The adultress with her paramour
Ought personally sharp pains endure.
Send them afar to foreign land,
Let each be branded on the hand;
There’s scarce a crime on earth more vile,
Then artless women to beguile.
The wretch that’s guilty of that sin,
On females does great anguish bring,
Levity too often leads astray,
The lovely female that is gay.
A love of dress too often cause,
Women to break the marriage laws;
And pity ’tis I do declare,
Many so gaudy should appear:
Soon as distress awaits the fair,
Madam is clad in deep despair;
Her sorrow is of selfish kind,
Not gaining things quite to her mind.
Her mind is fixed soon to impart,
The fondest darling of her heart,
To the first artful man she see,
A strong desire for liberty.
This from her home without delay,
To taste the pleasures of the day;
Now had the husband taught his wife,
Economy throughout his life
More easy she’d have kept at home,
But he allowed her oft to roam;
To plays and balls and such like places,
Where giddy wantons show their faces.
Actions are brought large damages to gain,
Which must give every thinking bosom pain;
Some trifling want of proper evidence,
May give a british jury just pretence,
To give acquittal, then the parties smile,
To think how much the public they beguile.
Still keen remorse embitters every joy,
Altho’ the parties can by bribes decoy:
Such hirelings as their influence can bind,
And clap a padlock on the tongue and mind.