JOHN THE SHOPKEEPER 
 
 TURNED SAILOR; 
 
 OR, 
 
 The Folly of gomg out of our Klement. 
 
 IN FOUR PARTS. 
 
 Sold by HOWARD and EVANS. 
 
 Printers to the.Cheap Repository for Moral and Religious Tracts* 
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 J,HATCHARD, No. r 9 o, Piccadilly, London. By S. HAZARD, 
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 in Town and Country. 
 
 Great Allowance will be made to Shopkeepers and Hawkers, 
 
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JOHN the SHOPKEEPER, 
 
 A TALE T tell whose first VcgitmW 
 
 En7 M ?t s *?°T& d iy foIks a s~ 
 
 •out, only l et it all unfold, 
 •A sadder tale was never told. 
 
 Some peop who for years before 
 Had seldom pass'd their outer door 
 1 or once determined to be gay, 
 And have one merry-making dav. 
 Agreed, " a sailing'we will go 
 Thus all was settled at a blow. ' 
 With hats and bonnets duly tv'd, 
 They bustle to the wafer-side, 
 And as the women stem the oale, 
 They s<*em already under sail ; 
 Here, while we rind them safe and sound 
 
 I A sailing only on dry ground, 
 We'll take occasion to declare 
 Who all these merry people were. 
 
 First there was John ; a trader he 
 Clever and smart as vou shall see • 
 H igh on the shelf in nice array, 
 His various wares and patterns lay - 
 
 Call when vou wilfthe thing's at hand 
 
 And Jonn is Over at his stand. 
 
 I grant indeed his price was high, 
 
 But then his shew-glass caught the eye, 
 
 Besides., known and understood, 
 
 His things weie all extremely good. 
 
 Walk in, and if vou talk with John, 
 
 I w»rrant, he will draw you on ; 
 
 Nor that he ventur'd on the sin/ ' 
 
 Of taking any strangers in ; 
 
 For John, dispute it he who can, 
 
 Wis a plain, open, honest man ; 
 
 Y u saw it written in his face ; 
 
 fndthen he serv'd you with a grace; 
 
 With genrle air and accent sweet, 
 
 Powder'd and dress 'd so spruce and neat,-, 
 
( 3 ) ^ 
 
 And most obliging in his speeches, 
 Unnumber'd ribbons down he reaches- 
 Presents before the lady's view. 
 Each flowery edge, each beauteous hue, 
 Rolls and unrolls the slippery things, 
 And every finger has it's wings ; 
 Then waits, with rare command of face, 
 While Miss, in sad distressful case. 
 Puzzles, and frets, and doubts between 
 A greenish blue and blueish green, 
 At length each anxious mincbis eas'd, 
 The bargain's struck, the lady's pleas'd ; 
 John humbly bows, then takes his flight 
 I o write his bill as swift as light ; 
 And ere the stranger's march 'd away 
 He next as sweetly asks for pay. 
 Yet if there entered one he knew, 
 John always gave the credit due'- 
 Welcom'd the friend with joyful looks, 
 Yetclapp'd the debt into his' books • 
 And tho' he begg'd the bill might wait, 
 i was sent at Chi istmas sure as fate. 
 At Christmas too (I tell his fame 
 That traders all may do the same; 
 John calmly terkeshis bonk up stairs. 
 And balances his whole affairs; 
 Sees how his total credits stand! 
 And values all his stock in hand; 
 Then fairly purs on 'tother side', 
 J he debts he owes both far and wide ? 
 J he difference is the sum he's worth, 
 1 is all he has this year on earth ; 
 Compares it with the year before* 
 * ;T> less than then'-«0 no, 'tis more.'-. 
 I is vastly more,' he says with glee, 
 Tis right, 'tis right, my books agree I' 
 But who except a trader's self, 
 Can paint these joys of growing pe lf ? 
 Ur rather, to correct inv song, 
 Who paint the pleasures that belong 
 1 o honest industry and thrift 
 While God is thank'd for every eift » 
 Ah ! foolish John ! so blest at home, 
 What need had'st thou so far to roam ? 
 
Could thy new-fangled joys out-top 
 
 The hourly pleasures of thy shop ; 
 
 Or if thy health an aring need*, 
 
 And one grand holiday's decreed 
 
 Coul'st thou not go, to change the scene, 
 
 And take a turn upon the green ? 
 
 Ah ! foolish John ! from what strange quarter 
 
 Could come this fancy for the water! 
 
 Well hast thou prospered while on shore, 
 
 Their lab' ring nobly at the oar ; 
 
 But if the wat'ry flood should ride thee, 
 
 Methinks some evil will betide thee :' 
 
 And should'st thou dare, when once afloat, 
 
 Thyself to steer or row the boat, 
 
 The hour shall come — I see it nigh 
 
 With my prophetic poet's eye, 
 
 When know, vain man, that thou shalt smart. 
 
 And all thy glory shall depart. 
 
 Then hear, ye Britons, while I preach, 
 
 This is the truth I mean to teach — 
 
 That he who in Is shop is bright, 
 
 And skill'd to keep his reck'ning right, 
 
 Who steers in the good middle way, 
 
 And gets some custom and some pay, 
 
 Marks when sad bankrupt times prevail, 
 
 And carefully draws in his sail, 
 
 Keeps watch, has all his lanterns out, 
 
 And sees the dangers round about, 
 
 Pushes his trade with wind and ore, 
 
 And still gets forward more and more — 
 
 This trader, skill'd as he may be, ) 
 
 On shore a man of high degree, 
 
 May prove a very dunce at sea. ) 
 
 Ah! foolish John! no thoughts like these 
 
 Once enter to disturb his ease ; 
 
 Onward he goes, and thinks it grand 
 
 To quit the plain and simple land ; 
 
 Leavs a good house of brick and mortar 
 
 To try mere wood upon the water. 
 
 PART H. 
 
 9 r |j ^WAS told you in a former lay, 
 JL How on a luckless evil day, 
 
The trader John, a landsman brave, 
 Left the dry ground to try the wave. 
 
 But here the poet must rehearse, 
 In soft, and sweet, and tender verse, 
 How gently Johnny had a wife, 
 The jov and solace of his life, 
 " The sharer of his griefs and cares, 
 Privy to all his great affairs ; 
 One who when ty'd in wedlock's noose 
 Had prov'd a helpmate fit for use ; 
 One whom he married — not for whim — a 
 But who could keep his house in trim ; 
 No high flown miss, or belle, or beauty, 
 A simple giil that knew her duty : 
 Had well obey'd her father, mother, 
 And counsel'd well her youngest brother ; 
 Healthy when young, and rather stout : 
 Moral ; — nay more, she was devour : 
 And now a Christian quite at heart, 
 She carefully fulfils her, part, 
 Well skill'd alike her house to guide, 
 And serve the shop at Johnny's side. 
 See now she works to help the trade,. 
 And now instructs her under maid i 
 But 'tis her chief and special care, 
 Her husband's daily toil to spare ; 
 When sick, or weary and opprest, 
 To ease the troubles of his breast, 
 To soothe his sorrow, calm his fears, 
 And help him through this vale of tears ; 
 Rernind him where his treasure lies, 
 And point to realms above the skies, 
 Where, when this shifting scene is o'er 
 The faithful meet to part no more. 
 Now twenty summers or above 
 Have glided by and prov'd her love ; 
 And though they may have marr'd her face, 
 Have ripend many a christian grace ; 
 Hence it may now b'e fairly guess'd, 
 Her latest days shall be her best. 
 John knows her worth, and now-a-days, 
 He grows quite eager in her praise ; 
 k'or ever'y calling friend is told, 
 My- wife is worth her weight in gald. 
 
To this blest couple there was born, 
 One daughter cheerfull as the morn ; 
 A maiden she of spotless fame, 
 E'en in her mirth quite clear from blame, 
 Train'd in- religion's " narrow way," 
 Her mind untainted by a play, 
 She hates her giddy glitt'ring scenes, 
 Tho* long time since enter'don her teens ; 
 See all things in a proper light, 
 And vice quite puts her in a fright. 
 Prompt and obedient from a child, 
 Obliging, humble, meek and mild j 
 Still before strangers as a mouse ; 
 Yet vastly useful in the house — 
 Toils for the shop tho' seldom seen ; 
 —Ah ! — there she sits behind the screen, 
 There, like some flow'r, both sweet and gay, 
 She shuns as vet the blaze of day, 
 (Well does her praise adorn my tale) 
 A new blown lily of the vale. 
 
 Now should perchance some fool draw near 
 And get to whisper in her ear, 
 Of plays, and balls, and fairs, and races, 
 Fine midnight routs, and public places, 
 And wondar how she can endure, 
 A life so useful and so pure — 
 Extol Jierfi nm, her piercing eyes, 
 And feel) n hmvired flatt'ring lies ; 
 — While the sweet praise .e thinks she sips, 
 The ortui 'o maiden bites her lips ; 
 Thinks his fine flate'ry mere pretence, 
 And longs to tell him to talk sense; 
 Yet dreads to take the dunce in hand, 
 Lest he should still not understand. 
 But should he let his vice peep out, 
 The meek-ey'd girl can then turn stout j 
 For once, 'tis said, in terms direct, 
 A spruce and saucy spark she check'd ; 
 (She grew so solemn in her speeches 
 The bucks give out that * Nancy preaches,*; 
 And once put on the sweetest air, 
 And begg'd a carman not to swear. 
 Thus while she; ends her peaceful days^ 
 Her parent's care she well repay s> 
 
Honors her father loves he* mother, 
 She'll prove, methinks, just such another | 
 And tho' scarce seen, except at cnuich. 
 The men won't leave her in the lurch ; 
 Some honest christian man shpUl strike, 
 Np buck or blood— for like loves like. 
 
 Next in my song of equal fame, 
 Comes a good honest antient dame ; 
 John's mother— with no fault but one— 
 I mean— she doated on her son; 
 For when her own dear spouse was gone, 
 Her whole affections fell to John ? 
 'Twas then, the widows age so great 
 Her prospects small, her incqme strait* 
 That Johnny wcigh'd the matter well, 
 And took her to his home to dwell : 
 No costs or trouble did he grudge, 
 For John had rightly learnt to judge 
 That people, once of little fame, 
 But now of high and mighty name, 
 Oft owe the glory of their station, 
 To, the mere help of education. 
 Quoth he-' Were all men good and true, 
 
 r Th • J h methinks, imght half be due,. 
 
 lame who now his found 
 Qnite thi ust upon the mere back ground : 
 « Besides,' he acided, half m tears, | 
 " ild is always in arreais, ^ C 
 o'er head and ears. m J 
 
 Oh with joy, what thanks and praise, 
 To the great length'ner of her days, 
 What feelings not to be outdone, 
 Tow' ids her dear John, her only son, 
 Did the good parent take her station, 
 And kindly own the obligation ; 
 And now his tenderness she pays, 
 By helping in a thousand ways, < 
 Deck'd in her best she comes m view, 
 And serves the shop from twelve to two j 
 Knows not each price peihaps quite pat, 
 Yet keeps the croud in civil chat, 
 •Till John himself comes up to sell 
 , A yard of lutestring, qi. an ell ; 
 
Next to the cook her aid she brings 
 And does a hundred little things : 
 Loves her own self to lay the cloth, 
 To dress the sailad, skim the broth, 
 At shelling pease is quick and nimble, 
 Tho' now grown tardy with her thimble 
 And always puts you quite at ease. 
 Walks out and leaves you if you please ; 
 Plain as she seems, as much good sense, 
 Aad hence she never takes offence , 
 And all agree, for all are lenient, 
 The good old lady's quite convenient. 
 
 Yet let me add if things grow wrong, 
 Madam soon shews her fears are strong ; 
 And then she gives a certain spice 
 Of plain and downright good advice ; 
 Talks in a most convincing tone, 
 Of what she's seen and what she's know 
 And, in a way that vastly wins, 
 Will warn you of her own past sins : 
 Tranquil mteVe, in elbow chair, 
 Tells what her former follies were ; 
 Reconnts her dangers, nice escapes, 
 Sad suffrings once, and aukward scarpes ; 
 And while she paints her varidlife. 
 Adds wisdom e'en to Johnny's wife : 
 John, warn'd of her, each matter weighs. 
 And Nancy trembles and obeys. 
 
 Thus some old seaman, once so brave 
 And buffeted by wind and wave, 
 Of the rude seas too long the sport, 
 Filters at length some peaceful port ; 
 Rejoices now no more to r»am, 
 Yet acts as pilot nearer home. 
 
 P ART i III. 
 
 IONG has the muse her tale delayed, 
 -4 Has stopt to talk of Johnny's trade ; 
 Wife, daughter, mother too, of John, 
 And quite forgot to travel on. 
 Long has the muse with trembling fear* 
 Vww'd the sad scene that now is near, 
 
Hung back indeed-from very fright, 
 And shrunk and star'dat the sight. 
 As the tall steed, if he should spy, 
 Some unknown form of danger nigh,. 
 Starts from his paths, his eye-balds glare. 
 His feet fly prancing in the air, 
 Round on the spot and round he wheels, 
 Upright upon his mere hind heels ; 
 So have we started at the view 
 Of what our John is now to do, 
 Have gaily fi isk'd it round and round, 
 Nor gain'd as yet an inch of ground, 
 
 Come, gentle Muse, the tale declare* 
 Sing how this bold advent'rous pair, 
 With mother brave and willing daughter, 
 March'd to the borders of the water. 
 Sing how they trod the beech so steep, 
 Gaz'dat the wonders of the deep, 
 And stop to view, as in a trance a 
 The awful ocean's vast expanse. 
 Then gaz'Jat ev'ry passing boat, 
 Till they quite long'd to get a-float, 
 The boatmen as they cross the Strand, 
 Spring from an alehouse just at hand, 
 All on the party down they burst, 
 And each is sure that he was first. 
 Oh ! how they press and fill the ground, 
 And push and elbow all around ! 
 Each to a lady makes his suit, 
 Till Nancy starts, as at a brute : 
 While prudent Johnny marching dov*n, 
 Hires a snur boat for half-a-crown, 
 Of smaller si^e, hut stiff and tight ; 
 And having seen that all is right, 
 Rallies" His daughter, claims his wife, 
 Bursts thro* the croud, and ends the strife, 
 
 And now with self-complacent grin, 
 The favor'd boatman hands them in 5 
 Rut first he plants as is his rule, 
 On the waves edge little stool, 
 And while he begs them to take circ. 
 Presents his elbow high tftxir. 
 All in they step, all down they sat ; 
 A ll safe, all even, and ail flat , • 
 
The boatman pushes off the boat ; 
 Was e'er such treasure all afloat t 
 And noft> ainid the suns bright gleans 
 S ;e how tney cut the sil ver stream ; 
 See how the breeze begins to play ? 
 See how ii wafts them far away ! 
 
 Scarce had the party left the shore, 
 When KufTman longs to spare his oar, 
 Paints to the bench were lies a sail, 
 And begs to profit by the gale. 
 At first the boatmans words appal, 
 And all the female faces fall ; 
 And Madam bets ten thousand pound, 
 ' This instant we shall all be drown'd', 
 Mean time old Ruffman, with a sneer, 
 Forbids each vain and silly fear ; 
 Talks of the seas that he had cross'd, 
 Beaten, and blown, and tempest tost ; 
 Tells ©f his danger now no more, 
 While a green yoiitn in days of yore* 
 Of feats perform M by way of fun, 
 And boasts of matches he "has won : 
 Then drops his tone, and quite allays^ 
 All the new fears he seem'd to raise ? 
 Pleads his great care, asserts his skill, 
 Begs each dear lady 11 dread no ill ; 
 For if he keeps the rope in hand, 
 The water's just as safe as land. 
 
 Thus all objections clown he beat, 
 And now the awful sad is set ; 
 Ah, how tney plough the whit'ning seas* 
 So fine, so glorious is the breeze • 
 H ow fresh and cooling too the air, 
 While the sail shades them from the.glar 
 The boatman who a while before, 
 Sat coatless Heated at the oar, 
 N ow lolls his ease, observes the wind* 
 Steers with one careful hand behind ; 
 While his light fist holds hard the sai3, 
 Resists or humours well :he galer 
 Then half- -appearing to turn back, 
 At once he stops and makes a tack ; 
 Points at the distant land once more, 
 And seems to xunyou right on shored 
 
But ere lie lets you quite touch grouw!, 
 Again he spins his vessel round, 
 And shifts across, with skill so nice, 
 The fluttering canvas in a ti ice, 
 Scuds o'er the spacious seas again ; • 
 Again he plows the mighty main ; 
 Again the lessening shore retires, 
 Woods, hills depart, and distant spires ; 
 While the bright sun, yon clouds betvreea 
 
 mes forth and gilds the glorious ^scene. 
 
 The party, eas'd of all their fright, 
 Gaze round and round with sweet delight f 
 Praise with one voice both land and seas, 
 And now they languish io r a breeze ; 
 Dread lest the slackening wind should failj 
 And welcomeevery growing gale : 
 Swift o'er the swelling waves they fly, 
 And pleasure be*', .is on every eve. 
 
 But all ! how oft with genial sun, 
 While the great course of life we run, 
 And fancy, as we taste the treat, 
 Our human bliss is now compleat ; — 1 
 How oft in that same favor'd hour, 
 Does the whole sky begin to lour. 
 The ch eering sun-shine's past away, 
 There comes a dreary doleful day : 
 Afflictions gather like a cloud ; • 
 The swelling tempest roars aloud; 
 While from yon threat'ninej heav'ussa dark, 
 It thunders round our little bark: 
 Unskilled to struggle thro' the breeze, 
 We toss in new and troubled seas, 
 And life's gay morning all so bright, 
 ±liic3s in Bows woeful tale at night. 
 
 PART IV. 
 
 COME, mournful Mtfse, and now relate. 
 The awful change in Johnny's fate, 
 A nd while the dolefc! song is sung, 
 Tell from what cause the ruin sprung-. 
 
 Cool'd by the breeze, and half undiesr, 
 The rough gale biuscnng round his breast, . 
 
Kobb'd of the sun's bright noon tide ray, 
 And oft bresprinkl'd by the spray, 
 Forth from yon bottom of the boat 
 Old RufFman lugs is sailor's coat, 
 And while he casts the jacket on, 
 Leaves ropes and rudder all to fohn. 
 Ah ! now begins the tragic tale, 
 For now the landsman holds the sail ! 
 ."He sees around the watery realm, 
 Yet goes and seizes on the helm, 
 And seated just in Huffman's place, 
 Shews his cock'd hat and tradesman's face ; 
 And now without one sailing art, 
 E'en simple Nancy bears a part : 
 Sits playful by her father's side, 
 And light, and gay, and merry-eyM. 
 Holds with that hand that held a fan, 
 Rude ropes, as if she were a man, 
 While idle RufFman, freed from care, 
 Halt-sleeping, earns his easy fare. 
 — -But hark ! from yonder distant shore, 
 Did you not hear the thunder roar ? 
 See ! see J the vivid lightnings play 
 And the dark cloud deforms trie day : 
 Now too there comes the whistling breeze^ 
 And sweeps the rudely swelling seas, 
 Fills with one blast the sail so full, 
 Wife, mother, daughter, help to pulh 
 Now sailors, if it seems to blow, 
 For safaty let the canvas go, 
 But women, not like passive men, 
 In vengeance always pull again. 
 Besides, as each her strength applied, 
 Each crouded on the leeward side ; 
 And though a lady's likea feather, 
 E'en feathers weigh when heap'd together. 
 
 Fierce blows the whirlwind, and of course 
 The ladies double all their force ; 
 Each pulls and s trains, and tugs and strives, 
 Like people pulling for their lives ; 
 John, honest landsman, simply lets them, - 
 $ car lends them strength, and oversets them 
 
 Fain would I urge the frighted Muse 
 To paint the scene which nex£ ensues— 
 
To tell how RufFman rous'd from sleep, 
 Fell headlong down amid the deep ; 
 Then mounting, ey'd the distant shore, 
 How Nancy sunk to rise no more — 
 But ah ! we'll leave it quite alone, 
 'Twould break methinks a heart of stone. 
 ■ — Plung'd in the deep, half lost in death, 
 Struggling and pa hng iard for breath ; 
 
 John thought to struggle now no more, 
 When his hand lights upon an oar ; 
 His chin uplifted o'er the wave, 
 He thus escapes a watery grave ; 
 Saves, scarcely saves his wretched life — 
 Kereft of mother, daughter, wife ! 
 Thus dearly for his fault he pays, 
 .Henceforth a mourner ail his da*£. 
 
 Here eads the tale— My friends arise 
 And wipe, I pray, your weeping eyes ; 
 My fable did you think itjrue ? 
 Was fram'd, in fact, to picture you ; 
 So next I'll preach to all the nation ; 
 And first, ye Sons of Innovation ! 
 
 When Britons, wearied with their lot, 
 Gr ow wild to get they know not what, 
 And quit, through love of Revolution, 
 Our good old English Constitution; 
 When Frenchmen lead the mazv dance, 
 And Britons ape fantastic Fiance ; 
 Methinks, like Johnny once so brave, 
 They're leaving land to try the wave : 
 They're quitting ancient house and home, 
 Mid the wild winds and seas to roam. 
 
f n ) ; 
 
 Wlien coblcrs meet in grand debate, 
 And lis tie folks feel vastly great ; 
 When each, forsooih : would quit his station, 
 And Jack and Will would rule the, nation, 
 Methmfes we're then in evil cr.se — 
 Here's Johnny perch'd in RufFiran's place 
 
 When women too make free to mix, 
 And try their hand in politics, 
 Set England right while drinking tea, 
 And shew how all things ought to be ; 
 Reprove, pass sentence, or acquit, 
 Ami talk as grand as Fox or Pitt : 
 Such ladies never mend my hopes — 
 Here's Nancy handling all the ropes. 
 
 When Parker rules as grand dictator, 
 And each Jack tar's a legislator ; 
 When seamen sit like kings in state, 
 While -lords come down and captains wait : 
 Again I say, 'tis just the case, 
 Oi Johnny perch'd in RurTman's place, 
 flelp [ Britons, help? we sink, we drown I 
 They've turn'd our vessel upside down. 
 
 When some raw lad, with jockey face> 
 Has ganVd five thousand ata race, 
 And ffush'd with joy, resolves to stand, 
 For some vile borough, purse in hand ; 
 i<ams ribbons round him, half for fun, 
 A t once bids all the barrels run, 
 Drinks his poor dull opponent down, 
 And at one onset storms the town ; 
 Then pays with honor half lvs debts, 
 .And ofFhe flies to mind his bets ; 
 Loses* at next Newmarket stand, s 
 Stocks, money, horses, house, and land, 
 With jockey speed runs up to town 
 Votes some great question, and runs down; 
 < j rows now a red-hoc party prater, 
 And calls himself a legislator. 
 • — Wbythts^ Pd tell him to his face, 
 h Johnny perch'd in RufTman's place. 
 
 When college youths, well vers'd in vice, 
 Tern all so reverend in a trice, 
 X rom descon duly rise to priest, 
 Then run to play, to ball, to feast, 
 
Give their poor flocks no christian light, 
 
 While Paine must set our morals rigju : 
 
 Indeed, indeed, it makes me fret, 
 
 For then the church is overset ; 
 
 But should these heads some pulpit grace, 
 
 Why then 'tis John in Huffman's place. 
 
 When hair-brain'd quacks, without degree, 
 Presume to take the doctors fee ; 
 Cure all disorders every day, 
 In some plain, easy* simple wav ; 
 Colds and catarrhs, all aching pain, 
 Consumption, fever in the brain ; 
 All nervous maladies to boot, 
 With some soft syrup or new root, 
 ~~P^ ' Ounces, tdl them not your case, 
 *Tis Johny perch'd in Ruffman's place. 
 
 When men of rank and talents rare, 
 Make some fine stud their only care, 
 Though form 'd to rule and guide the land, 
 Love better guiding four in hand, 
 Pass in the stable half their lives, 
 f Are more with Will than with their wives j 
 
 Or when my lady quite descends, 
 And turns Iver servants into friends, 
 Of all her equals seems afraid, 
 And whispers secrets to her maid : 
 With Betty dwells on this and that, 
 And dearly loves some kitchen chat.— 
 — When servants too get much too smart, 
 And each must act the master's part ; 
 Just like their master when they dine, 
 Sit long, ear venison, ar.d drink wine ; 
 When footmen get above their plac , 
 And butler's shew their lordly face ; 
 When Betty too disdains her pattens, 
 And flaunts about in silks and satins. 
 Or should she find the fasion varies, 
 Then follow all the new vagaries, 
 Adopts at once my lady's taste, 
 And scarce can bear a inch of waist; 
 Has ear-rings, just the selfsame pair, 
 Binds^ the same turban round her hair; 
 Apes in each part my lady quite, 
 And trips in muslins just as white ; 
 
When such, alas ! is all the case, 
 ,'Tis Johnny got in Ruffman/s place. 
 
 Again, when wives haae got victorious, 
 And the poor husband sneeks inglorious \ 
 When John is gentle, Jenny coarse, 
 And the gray mares the better horfc ; 
 Or when you children have your ways, 
 And strange to tell, papa obeys f 
 When things are manag'd all fo ill 
 That little Tommy fays, « I will 
 Or Jaftly, let me tell you when — 
 When men turn women, women men. 
 Men hate of all things to be rafh, 
 And women, meek-eyed women, dafn, 
 Men down their forehead draw their looks , 
 And women fhew their color'd clocks, 
 Difcard their fhame forget, their fex, 
 And crmse to open all their necks ; 
 When fuch again is all the case, 
 'Tjs Johnny got in RufFman's place. 
 
 Oh ' would yt ftop the nation's fall, 
 Then every cobler mind your awl : 
 You labouring lads push home your fpade ; 
 Ye trading Johnnies mind your trade : 
 Ye feamen fifty: and don't debate ; 
 Watch flatcman well the helm offtake ; 
 Ye clergy mind your awful part, 
 *Tis yours to turn the nation's heart, 
 Keep'parents to the good old way, 
 And make your children all obey 
 Claim not ve wives the chief command, 
 Keep back' ye Nancies of the land, 
 Let women ne'er be over ready, 
 You'll trim the boat by fitting feidy, 
 J h rructcd thus by Johnny's case, 
 L-ci every Briton mind his place.