t i r 
 
 CHEAP REPOSITORY. 
 
 THE CARP ENTER; 
 Or, the Danger of Evil Company. 
 
 THERE was a young Weft-country man 
 A Carpenter by trade, 
 A fkilful wheelwright too was he, 
 And few fuch Waggons made. 
 
 No Man a tighter barn could Build, 
 
 Throughout his native town, 
 Thro* many a village round was he 
 
 The ball of workmen known,, 
 
 A 
 
k & ) 
 
 His father left him what he had^ 
 
 In footh it was enough j 
 His ihining pewter 3 pots of brafs, 
 
 And all his houfehold Huff* 
 
 A little cottage too he had, 
 For eafe and comfort plann'd, 
 
 And that he might not lack for oughts 
 An acre of good ;iand» 
 
 A pleafant orchard too there was, 
 
 Before his cottage door ; 
 Of cider and of corn likewife^ 
 
 He had a little '-ftore. 
 
 Active and healthy, flout and youngs 
 
 Np buhnefs wanted he ; 
 Now tell me reader if you can, 
 
 What man more blefl cou'd be ? 
 
 To make his comfort quite complete^ 
 
 He had a faithful Wife ; 
 Frugal, and neat, and good was fhe 3 
 
 The bleffing of his life. 
 
 Where is the Lord, or where the Squire^ 
 
 Had greater caufe to praife, 
 The goodnefs of that .bounteous hand, 
 
 Which bleft his profp'rous days ? 
 
 Each ni?hfe when he return'd from \york 9 
 
 His wife fo meek and mild, 
 His little fupper gladly drefs'd, 
 
 While he careiVd his child* 
 
 One bloomrng babe was all he had^ 
 
 His only darling dear. 
 The object of their equal love 5 
 
 The folace of their care, 
 
O what couM ruin fuch a life, 
 
 And fpoil fo fair a lot ? 
 O what cou'd change fo kind a hearty 
 
 All goodnefs quite forgot ? 
 
 With grief the caufe I mud relate, 
 
 The difmal caufe reveal, 
 s Twas evil company and drinRj 
 
 The fource of every ill. 
 
 A Cooper came to live hard by, 
 Who did his fancy pleafe ; 
 
 An idle rambling man was he, 
 Who oft had crofs'd the feas» 
 
 This Man could tell a merry tale^ 
 
 And fmg a merry fong ; 
 And thofe who h^ard him firtg or talk 
 
 Ne'er thought the ev'ning long* 
 
 But vain and vicious was the fong^ 
 And wicked was the tale % 
 
 And every paufe he aiways fili'd^ 
 With cider, gin, or ale. 
 
 Our Carpenter delighted mucli^ 
 
 To hear the Cooper talk % 
 And with him to the Alehoufe oft^ 
 
 Wou'd take his evening walk. 
 
 At firfl: he did not care to drink , 
 
 But only lik'd the fun ; 
 But foon he from the Cooper lear 
 
 The fame fad courfe to run. 
 
 He faid the Cooper's company, 
 Was all for which he car'd ; 
 But foon he drank as much as he^ 
 
 it 
 
 To fwear like Kim fgQii 
 
V 4 / 
 
 J-Iis hammer now negle&ed lay, 
 
 For work he little car'd ; 
 Half finifh'd wheels, an4 broken tools^ 
 
 Were ftrew'd about his yard* 
 
 To get him to attend his work, 
 No prayers cou'd now prevail; 
 
 Hie hatchet and his plane forgot, 
 He never drove a Mail. 
 
 His chearfui ev'nings now no more 
 With peace and plenty fmiPd ; 
 
 No more he fought his pleafmg Wife 
 Nor l^ugg'd his fmiling child. 
 
 For not his drunken nights alone, 
 Were with the Cooper pad ; 
 
 His days were at the Angel fpent, 
 And ftill he ftay'd the Jaft. 
 
 No handfome Sunday fuit was left, 
 
 Nor decent holland fhirt ; 
 No nofegay mark'd the Sabbath-clay* 
 
 But all was rags and dirt. 
 
 No more his Church he did frequent^ 
 
 A fymptom ever fad; 
 Where once the Sunday is mifpent, 
 
 The week days mud be bad. 
 
 The cottage mortgag'd for it's worth, 
 The favorite orchard fold ; 
 
 He foon began to feel th* efFefts 
 Of hunger and of cold. 
 
 The pewter difhes one by one, 
 
 Were pawn'd, till none was left z 
 
 And wife and babe at home remain^ 
 Of every help bereft* 
 
( 5 ) 
 
 By chance he call'd at home one »ighfy 
 
 And in a furly mood, 
 He bade his weeping wife to get 
 
 Immediately fome food, 
 
 His empty cupboard well he knew 
 
 Mud needs be bare 6f &read ; 
 !sTo rafher on the rack he faw, 
 
 Whence cou'd he then be fed ? 
 His wife* a piteous fig It. did heave 
 
 And then before him laid 
 A balket coveVd with a cfotfr^ 
 
 But not a word fhe faid. 
 
 Then to her hufband gave a knife, 
 
 With many a filent tear, 
 In haite he tore the cover* off, 
 
 And faw his child lay there. 
 
 e< There lies thy babe, the mother faid, 
 " Opprefs'd with famine fore ; 
 
 ** O kill us both— 'twere kinder far, 
 frV We cou'd not fuffer more/' 
 
 The Carpenter, ftruck to the heart, 
 Fell on his knees flraitway ; 
 
 He wrung his hands confefs'd his fins, 
 
 And did both weep and pray. 
 
 From that fame hour the Cooper more 
 
 He never wou'd behold ; 
 Nor wou'd he to the Alehoufe go, 
 
 Had it been pav'd with gold. 
 
 * See Berlin's Galeae*, 
 
( 6 ) 
 
 His Wife forgave him all the paft, 
 And footh'd his forrowing mind, 
 
 And much he griev'd that e'er he wrong 4 ! 
 The worthier!: of her kind. 
 
 By lab'ring hard, and working late, 
 
 By induftry and pains, 
 His Cottage was at length redeem'd, 
 
 And fav'd were all his gains. 
 
 His Sundays now at Church were fpciit, 
 
 His home was his delight, 
 'The following verfe himfelf he made^ 
 
 And read it every night. 
 
 %~he Drunkard Murders Child and Wife 3 
 
 Nor matters it a pin^ 
 Whether he fiabs the?n njuith his knife^ 
 
 €)r Jiarves thtm rwiih his gin* 
 
( 7 ) 
 
 THE G 1 N-S H fij 
 
 Or,- A Peep jnto a PrisoNo 
 
 OOK thro' the land from North to South 5 
 And look from Earl to Weft : 
 And fee what is to Englifhmen, 
 Of Life the deadlier Pefh 
 
 It is not Want, tho' that is had, 
 
 Nor W ar, tho' that is worfe ; 
 But Britons brave endure, alas! 
 
 A felf-infiifted Curfe, 
 
( 8 ) 
 
 <5o where you will throughout the Realm 
 
 You'll find the reigning Sin, 
 In Cities, Villages, and Towns ; 
 
 — The Monfter's name is Gin. 
 The Prince of darknefs never fent 
 
 To Man a deadlier foe ; 
 
 My name is Legion,'' it may fay. 
 
 The fource of every woe. 
 Nor does the fiend alone deprive 
 
 The laborer of his wealth ; 
 That is not all, it murders too 
 
 His honefl name and health. 
 We fay the times are grievous hard, 
 
 And hard they are, 'tis true ; 
 But, Drunkards, to your wives and babes 
 
 They're harder made by you. 
 The Drunkard's Tax is felf-impos'd, 
 
 Like every other fin ; 
 The taxes altogether lay, 
 
 No weight fo great as Gin. 
 The State compels no man to drink, 
 
 Compels no man to game ; 
 s Tis Gin and gambling fink him dowst 
 
 To rags, and want, and fhame. 
 The kinder! hufband, chang'd by Gin, 
 
 Is for a tyrant known ; 
 The tendered heart that Nature made. 
 
 Becomes a heart of (tone. 
 In many a houfe the harmlefs babes 
 
 Are poorly cloth'd and fed : 
 Becaufe the craving Gin-Shop takes 
 
 The children's daily bread. 
 
Come, neigJiSoui', take a walk with mej 
 Thro' many a London Street ; 
 
 And fee the caufe of penury 
 In hundreds we fhall meet. 
 
 We fhall not need to travel far— 
 Behold that great man's door ; 
 
 He well defcerns that idle crew, 
 From the deferving poor. 
 
 He will relieve with liberal hand 
 The child of honeft Thrift ; 
 
 But where long fcores at gin-shops fland 
 Pie will with-hold his gift. 
 
 Behold that fhivering female there, 
 Who plies her woeful trade ! 
 
 'Tis ten to one you'll find that Gin, 
 That hopelefs wretch has made. 
 
 Look down thefe fleps, and view below 
 
 Yon cellar under ground ; 
 There every want and every woe. 
 
 And every Sin is found. 
 
 Thofo little wretches trembling there, 
 
 With hunger and with cold, 
 Were by their parents love of Gin, 
 
 To Sin and Mifery fold. 
 
 Bleft be thofe friends* to human kind 
 Who take thefe wretches up, 
 
 Ere they have drunk the bitter cregs 
 Of their fad parents' cup. 
 
 * The Fh 'tenthr^nc Society. 
 
( 10 ) 
 
 Look thro* that prifon's -iron bars,' 
 Look thro' that difmal grate; 
 
 And learn what dire misfortune brought 
 So terrible a fate. 
 
 The Debtor and the Felon too, 
 
 Tho* differing much in fin; 
 Too oft you'll find were thither brought 
 
 By all-deflroying Gin.o 
 
 Yet heaven forbid I fhould confound 
 
 Calamity with guilt ! 
 Or name the Debtor's lefier fault, 
 
 With blood of Brother fpilu 
 
 To Prifon dire misfortune oft 
 The guiltlefs debtor brings ; 
 
 Yet oft'ner far it will be found 
 From Gin the mifery fprings* 
 
 See the pale ManufacVrer there, 
 How lank and lean he lies ! 
 
 How haggard is his fickly cheek! 
 How dim his hollow eyes ! 
 
 He plied the loom with good fuccef;, 
 
 His wages flill were high ; 
 Twice what the Village lab'rer gains, 
 
 His mailer did fiu. ply. 
 No book-debts kept him from his cafh, 
 
 All paid as loon as due ; 
 His wages on the Saturday 
 
 To fail he never knew. 
 
 How amply had his gains fufftVd, 
 
 On wife and children fpent ! 
 But all muft for his plcafures go; 
 . All to the Gin-Shop went. 
 
See that Apprentice, young in yearijj 
 
 But hackney'd long in fin ; 
 What made him rob his matter's Till ? 
 
 W m 
 
 Alas ! 'twas love of Gin. 
 
 That ferving Man — I knew him once 
 So jaunty, fpruce, and fmart ! 
 
 Why did he (leal, then pawn the plate 1 
 'Twas Gin onfnar'd his heart. 
 
 But hark ! what difmal found is that ? 
 
 'Tis Saint Sepulchre's Bell I 
 It toils, alas ! for human guilt. 
 
 Some malefactor's knell. 
 
 O ! woeful Sound ! ! what could caufe 
 
 Such punifhment and Sin ? 
 Hark ! hear his words, he owns the caufe 
 
 Bad Company and Gin. 
 
 And when the future Lot is fix'd. 
 Of darknefs, fire and chains, 
 
 How can the Drunkard hope to 'fcape 
 Thofe everlafting pains ? 
 
 For if the Murd'rer's doom'd to woe. 
 
 As holy Writ declares, 
 The Drunkard with SELF-Murderers 
 
 That dreadful portion (hares. 
 
THE RIOT; 
 
 Or, Half a Loaf is better than no- Bread* 
 In a Dialogue between Jack Anvil and Tom Hod. 
 To the Tune of " A Cobler there was/' &c. 
 
 TOM. 
 
 /^OME neighbours, no longer be patient and quiet, 
 
 Come let us go kick up a tit of a riot ; 
 I am hungry, my lads, but I've little to eat, 
 So we'll pull down the mills, and feize all the meat: 
 I'll give you good fport, boys, as ever you faw, 
 So a % for the Juftice, a fig for the law. 
 
 Oerry down. 
 
( *3 ) 
 
 Then his pitchfork Tom feiz'd— Hold a mom<?. % 
 fays Jack, 
 
 I'll fhew thee thy blunder, brave boy, in a crack, 
 Arid if I don't prove we had better be ftili, 
 I'll ailift thee ftraitway to pull down every mill ; 
 I'll fhew thee how palfion thy reafon does cheat, 
 Or I'll join thee in plunder for bread and for meat. 
 
 Derry down. 
 
 What a whimfey to think thus our .'bellies to fill, 
 Por we flop all the grinding by breaking the mill ! 
 What a whimfey to think we .{hall get more to eat 
 By abufing the butchers who get us the meat ! 
 What a whimfey to think we fhall mend our fpare diet 
 By breeding difturbance, by murder and riot.! 
 
 .Derry dowru 
 Becaufe I am dry 'twould be foolifh, I think 
 To pull out my tap and to fpill.all my drink ; 
 Becaufe I am hungry and want to be fed, 
 That is fure no wife reafon for wafting my bread 
 And juft fuch wife reafons for mending their diet 
 Are us'd.by thofe blockheads who ru,fh into .riot. 
 
 X)eriry down. 
 
 I would not take comfort from -others diftreffes, 
 But ftill I would, mark how God our land bleHes-; 
 For tho' in Old England the times are but fad, 
 Abroad I am told they are ten times as bad ; 
 In the land of the Pope X lie re is fcarce any grain, 
 And 'tis ftill worfe, they fay, both in Holland and 
 Spain. 
 
 T)erry down. 
 Let us look to the harveft our wants to beguile 
 See the lands with rich crops how they every where 
 fmile J 
 
( 14 ) 
 
 Mean time to afTid us, by each Welle rn breeze, 
 Some corn is brought daily acrofs the fait feas, 
 Of tea- we'll drink little, of gin none at all, 
 And we'll patiently wait and the prices will fall. 
 
 Derry down. 
 
 But if we're not quiet, then let us not wonder 
 If things grow much worfe by our riot and plunder ; 
 And let us remember whenever we meet, 
 The more Ale we drink, boys, the lefs we fhall eat. 
 On thofe days fpent in riot #o bread you brought home, 
 Had you fpent them in labour you mull have had forte* 
 
 Derry down. 
 
 •A dinner of herbs, fays the wife man, with quiet, 
 Is better than beef amid difcord and riot. 
 If the thing can't be help*d I'm a foe to all ftrife, 
 And I pray for a peace every night of my life ; 
 But in matters of ftate not an inch will I budge, 
 Becaufe I conceive I'm no very good judge. 
 
 Derry down. 
 
 Buttho' poor I can work, my brave boy, with the beft, 
 Let the King and the Parliament manage the reft \ 
 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 reafon, 
 May prevent a bad law, but can't help a bad leaforr, 
 
 Derry down. 
 
 The parliament-men, altho' great is their power. 
 Yet they cannot contrive us a bit of a fhower : 
 And I never yet heard, tho' our Rulers are wife ; 
 That they know very well how to manage the fkies 5 
 For the be ft of them all, as they found to their coft, 
 Were not able to, hinder laft winter's hard froil. 
 
 Derry dowru 
 
( 15 ) 
 
 Bendes 1 mud fliare in the wants of the times, 
 Becaufe I have had my full (hare in it's crimes ; 
 And I'm apt to believe the diftrefs which is fentj 
 Is to punini and cure us of all difcon.tent. 
 ~But harveft is coming — Potatoes are come ! 
 Our profpecl clears up j Ye complaine'rs be dumb ! 
 
 Derry down. 
 
 And tho ? I've no money, and tho' I've no lands, 
 ■ 1 ye a head on my fhoulders, and a pairof good hands ; 
 So I'll work the whole djy, and on Sundays Til feck 
 At :hurch how to bear all tfie wants of the week. 
 The Qen tlefqjks too will afford us fupplies ; ; 
 They'll, fubfc tib'e — and they'll give up their puddings 
 'and Dies,'; - " 
 
 Derry down, 
 
 1 hen before Prn induced to take part in a Riot, 
 I'll aft this fhort queflion-HWhat fhall I get by ft ? 
 So I'll e'en wait a frttle till cheaper the bread. 
 For a mittimus hangs o'er each Rioter's head ; 
 And when of two evils I'm afk'd which is* heft, 
 I'd rather be hungry .than hang'd, I proteft. 
 
 Derry dow r n, 
 
 Quoth Tom, thou art right ; 'If 'I rife, I'm a Turk, 
 So "he threw doWn his pitchfork, and went to his 
 work* 
 
 7 
 
( i6 ) 
 
 PATIENT JOE; 
 Or, The Newcastle 'Collier, 
 
 Y_J A V E you heard of a Collier of honeft renowm 
 •4- Who dwelt on the borders of Newcastle Town ? 
 His name it was Jofeph-*— you better may know 
 If I tell you he always was call'd patient Joe* 
 
 Whatever betided he thought it was right, 
 
 And Providence 'ftiti .he kept ever in fight ; 
 
 To thofe who love GOD, let things turn as they wou'd 
 
 He was certain that all work'd together for good. 
 
 He prais'd his Creator whatever befcl ; 
 How thankful was Jofeph when matters went well ! 
 How fin cere were his carols of praife for good healih, 
 And how grateful for any increafe in his wealth ! 
 
£ i 7 ) 
 
 In trouble be bow'd him to GOD's holy will ; 
 How Contented was Joieph when matters went ill ! 
 When rich and when poor he alike understood 
 That all things together were working for good. 
 If the Land was afflicted with war, he declar'd 
 'Twas a needful correction for fins which he fhar'd 5' • 
 And when merciful Heaven bid {laughter to ceafe 
 Kow thankful was Joe for the ble fling of peace! 
 When Taxes ran high, and proviftons were dear, 
 Still Jofeph declar'd he had nothing to fear ; 
 It was but a trial he well underftood, 
 From- HIM who made all work together for good. 
 Tho* his wife was but fickly, his gcttings but finally 
 A mind fo fubmiflive prepar'd him for all ; 
 He liv'd on his gains were they greater or lefs,- 
 And the Giver he ceas'd not each moment to blefs. 
 When 1 another child came he received him with joy r 
 And Providence blefs'd who had fent him a boy ; 
 But when the child dy'd — j faid poor Joe I'm content^ 
 For GOD had a right to recal what he lent. 
 It was Jofeph's ill-fortune to work in a pit 
 With fome who believ'd that profanenefs was wit • 
 When di falters befel him much pleafure they (hew'd ? 
 And laugh'd and faid— Jofeph, will this work for good ? 
 
 But ever when thefe wou'd prophanely advance 
 That this happen'd by luck, and that happen'dby chance r 
 Still Jofeph inhftcd no chance cou'd be found, 
 Not a fparrow by accident fall's to the ground.* 
 Among his companions who work'd in the pit ? 
 And made him the butt of their profligate wify 
 Was idle Tim Jenkins, who drank and who gam'J^ 
 Who mock'd at his Bible, smi was not afham/d* 
 
( 18 ) 
 
 One day at the pit his oH comrades be found, 
 And they chatted, preparing to go under ground; 
 Tim Jenkins as ufual was turning to jefh 
 Joe's notion — -that all things which happcn'd were 
 beft. 
 
 As Joe on the ground had unthinkingly laid 
 His provifion for dinner of bacon and bread, 
 A dog on the waieh fciz'd .the bread and the meat, 
 And off with his prey run with footifceps 10 fleet. 
 
 Now to fee the delight that Tim Jenkins exprefl V 
 * £ Is the lofs of thy dinner too* Joe, for the beft? ,r 
 6i No doubt on't," faid Joe,. * { but as I muft eat, 
 <4 5 Tis my duty to try to recover my meat." 
 
 So faying he follow'd ths dog a long round, 
 While Tim laughing and [wearing, went down under 
 ground*. 
 
 Poor Jos foon returned, tho' his bacon was loft, 
 Tor the dog a good dinner had made at his coll. 
 
 When J'ofeph came back,, he expected a fneer, 
 But the face of each Collier fpoke horror and fear;; 
 What a narrow efcape haft thou had, they all faid, 
 The pit is fall'n in, and Tim Jenkins is dead ! 
 
 How fircere was t&e gratitude •■■■J'ofeph exprefs'd ! 
 How warm the companion which glow'd in his breaft.}- 
 Thus events great and fmall if aright underftood 
 Will be found to be working together for good. 
 
 *' When my meat," Jofeph cry'd, " was iuft now 
 
 ftol'n away, 
 And I had no profpeel: of eating to-day, 
 How cou'd it appear to a fhort-fighted finner, 
 That my life wou'd be fav'd by the lofs of my dinner ?'* 
 
( *9 ) 
 
 27ze EXECUTION of WILD ROBERT. 
 Being a Warning to all Parents. 
 
 In early life with petty thefts 
 His courfe he did begin. 
 
 But thofe who deal in leffer fins 
 
 In great will foon offend ; 
 And petty thefts, not check *d J^timeSj 
 In murder foon may end. 
 
( 20 ) 
 
 &nd r6',v like any beaft of prey. 
 
 Wild Robert fhrunk from view; 
 
 Save when at eve on Bagfhot heath 
 H<e met bis harden'd crew. 
 
 With this fierce crew Wild Robert thefe 
 
 On plunder fet f Hils mind ; 
 And watch'd and prowl 'd the live-long nights 
 
 To ( rob arid £ray mankind. 
 
 But Got), whofe vengeance never fleeps^ 
 
 Tho ? he delays the blow, 
 Can in a' fmgle ; moment lay' 
 
 The proTperous villain low. 
 One night, a fatal night indeed !' 
 
 Within a neighb'ring #oM, 
 A harmlefs palfenger he robb'd, 
 
 And dy'd his hands in blood. 
 
 The direful deed performed, he went" 
 
 To fhew his golden fpoils, 
 When vengeful Juftice, unawaresy 
 
 Surpris'cT him in her toils. 
 Wild Robert feiz'd, at once was kriown 3 
 
 (No crape" had hid : his face) 
 Jnvprifort'dj try'd, condemn 'd* to die i 
 
 Soon run Was Robert's race ! 
 
 Since Inert the time the laws allow 
 
 To murderers dbom'd to die, 
 How earned fhou'd the fuppliant wretch* 
 
 To heaven for rritfrcy cry ! 
 But he, alas I no mercy fought, 
 
 Tho' fummon'd to his fate ; 
 The Cart drew near the Gallows Tree, 
 
 Where' throng'd fpeeutors wait. 
 
( *1 ) 
 
 Slow as he pafs'd no pious tongy^ 
 Pour'd forth a pitying pray'r; 
 
 Abhorrence £.11 who faw him felt, 
 He, horror and ^efpair. 
 
 And now the difmal death-bell tolFd, 
 
 The fatal ; cord was huxrg, 
 While fudden^ deep, £ and dreadful {hrieks 
 
 Burfr, forth amidfl the throng. 
 
 Hark ! 'tis his mother's voice he hears ! 
 
 Deep horror makes, his frame | 
 s Tis rage and fury fill his breaft, 
 
 Not pity, love, or {name, 
 
 €C One moment hold !" the mother crie$ 5 
 
 " His life one moment fpart, 
 C6 One kifs, my miserable child, 
 
 •* I^y Robert once fo dear !" 
 
 iHence, cruel mother, hence, he faid, 
 
 Oh ] deaf to nature's cry ; 
 Vour's is the fault I liv'd abhori'd 
 And unlamented die. 
 
 You gave me life, but with it gave 
 What made that life a curfe ; 
 
 ;My fins uncurb'd, my mind untaught^ 
 Soon grew from bad to worfe. 
 
 J thought that if I s fcap s d the ftroke 
 
 Of man's avenging rod, 
 All wou'd be well, and I might mock 
 
 The vengeful pow'r of God, 
 
 My hands no honeft trade were taugh% 
 My tongue no pious pray'r ; 
 
 ( Uncheck'd I learnt to break the law^ 
 To pilfer, lie, *m4 fweafo 
 
( 22 ) 
 
 The Sabbath bell, that toll'd to churchj 
 
 To me unheeded rung ; 
 God's holy name and word I curs'd 
 
 With my blafpheming tongue. 
 
 No mercy now your ruin'd child 
 Of heav'n can dare implore, 
 
 I mock'd af grace, and now I fear 
 My day bf grace is o'er. 
 
 Blame not the law which dooms your fon^ 
 Compar'd with you ? tis mild ; 
 
 5 Tis you have fentene'd me to death, 
 To hell have doom'd your child. 
 
 He fpoke, and fixing faft the cord, 
 
 Refign'd his guilty breath ; 
 Diwn at his feet his mother fell, 
 
 By confeience ftruck with deathj 
 
 Ye parents, taught by this faid tale, 
 
 Avoid the path Ihe trod ; 
 And teach your fons in early years 
 
 The fear and love of God, 
 
 So fhall their days, tho* doom'd to toil, 
 With peace,, and hope be bleft.; 
 
 And heav'n, when life's fhort ta(k is o'e 
 Receive their fouls to r§ft, 
 
( *3 ) 
 
 A NEW CHRISTMAS CAROL, 
 
 CALLED THE % ' 
 
 Merry Cbirstmas and Happy New Year, 
 
 T SING (O ye-neighbours come 'lend me your ear) 
 
 Of a good merry Chriflmas and happy ni$w year ; 
 But: left, ye fhould blunder and take me quite wrong s 
 Ye mufl liflen awhile, to the turn of my fong. 
 
 There is froiickfome Jack, he will hear with fur prk c 
 That by merry I mean bei ng merry and <wife ; 
 And by happy ne^w year what I wifh and intend 
 Is, may Jack be Jo happy this year as to mend* 
 
 See there's Dick at the alehoufe who-countsit no crime.; 
 •For Chriflmas he arguesas holiday time .; 
 Dick's holiday thus is a .drunken day folely, 
 ^Whereas ^holiday fu re means a day that is holy* 
 
 ; But here .with moll: humble fuhmiffion I crave 
 The kind leave of my Readers to grow rather grave ; 
 And I hope itcan't hurt you 9 ye fons of good cheer! 
 
 'To hear a grave truth jufi for once in a year. 
 
 In the days of old time (as we find from a book 
 ..Into which it is not much the fafnion to look) 
 There liv'd (you may. read it yourfelf if you chufe) 
 A moft famous and much favour'd nation of Jews. 
 
 Thefe Jews (of whofe children you ftMl may fee fome) 
 Believ'd in a Ch rift and a Chriflmas to come ; 
 And were thought one and all to be Jews good and true ; 
 As well might one doubt that good Chriflians are you* 
 
 And yet it did prove to their horrible fhame, 
 When this Chrift icng expected and .Chriftmas day 
 came ? 
 
{ 34 J ^ 
 
 *Fho' inflrufted before in the whole of the plan, 
 That theCe Jews did fo blunder they knew not th« 
 man. 
 
 For in truth they were wanton and worldly at heart, 
 And of fome worldly kingdom they wanted a part ; 
 They defir'd a falfe Chrift who might pleafe each 
 gay fenfe, 
 
 And the true one of courfe gave them dreadful 
 oifence. 
 
 His mercy they fcorn'd, from his truths they difTented, 
 If he warn'd them ^>f danger their paffion they 
 vented ; 
 
 Nay they dy'd-ihcir own hands in this 'Holy 'One's 
 bloods 
 
 So the wrath of jufi Heaven fwept them off like s 
 flood. 
 
 Ye Chrfftians -fb gay, who believe without thinking* 
 And flill keep your Chriftmasby dancing and drinking ! 
 As yo^i read this fhort ilory, perhaps it may ftrike, 
 That a Jew and a Chriftian may blunder alike. 
 For they both to true faith may make civil pretenfion, 
 Yet may both truft a Chrifl of their own vain in- 
 vention 
 
 And when t old of their blunder they both may feel 
 
 fore 3 
 
 And the Chriflian refent what the Jew did before* 
 
 Then ceafe, drunken Dick ! by your diffolute mirth 9 
 To record the bleft day of your Jefus's birth ; 
 And take heed, giddy Jack ! hpw your dance you 
 purfue, 
 
 Left your keeping of Chriftmas fhould prove you a Jew* 
 
 TBI END* 
 
 tits