Hannah More.

The complete works of Hannah More online

. (page 10 of 135)
Online LibraryHannah MoreThe complete works of Hannah More → online text (page 10 of 135)
Font size
QR-code for this ebook

And I never yet heard though our rulers are

That they know very well how to manage the

For the best of them all, as they found to their

Were not able to hinder last winter's hard fVost.

Derry Down.
Besides, I most share in the wants of tbe timca<
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 '! dispoptent ,

Digitized by V^OOgle



Bat harvest it oaaang — potatoes are come !
Our prospect clears up; ye compJaiuen be

dumb I berry Down.

And though I Ve no money, and though I *ve no

I *7e a head on my shonldersy and a pair of good

So I Ml work the whole day^ and on Sundays I *U

At ohureb how to bear all the wants of the week.
The gentlefolks too will afford us supplies ;
They *11 subscribe— and they *11 give up their

puddings and pies. Derry Down,

Then before I *ih indocM to take part in a riot,
I *11 ask this short question-^hat shall I get

by it?
So I *I1 e'ni wait a little till cheaper the bread.
For a mittimns hangs o*er each rioter's head :
And when of two enk I *m aak*d which is best,
I *d rather be hungry than hang'd, I protest

Derry Dawn,
Quoth Tom, thou art ri^t. If I rise I*maTnrk:
So ho threw down his pitchfork, and weilt to his




Hats too heard of a oolUer of honest renown.
Who dwelt on the borders of Newcastle town 7
His name it was Joseph — ^you better may know
If I tell you he always was call'd patient Joe.
Whatever betided he thought it was right.
And ProTidence still he kept ever in sight;
To those who lore God, let things turn as they

He was certain that all worked together for good.
He praisM his Creator whatever befel ;
How thankful was Joseph whea matters went

How sincere were his carols of praise for good

And how gratefbl for any increase in his wealth !
In trouble he bow*d him to God's holy will ;
How contented was Joseph when matters went

When rich and when poor he alike understood,
That all things together were working for good.
If the land was afflicted with war he decliS'd,
Twas a needfiil correction for sins which he

And when merciful Heaven bade slaughter to

How thankfhl was Joe for the blessing of peace !
When taxes ran high, and provisions were dear,
Still Joseph declar*d he had nothing to fear ;
It was but a trial he well understood.
From Him who made all work together for good.
Though his wife was but sickly his gettings but

Yet a mind so submissive prepar'd him for all ;
He livM on his gains were they greater or less.
And the giver he ceas'd not each moment to

bless. [joy.

When another chUd came he received him with
And Providence biess'd who had sent him the

But when tho child died — said poor Joe I 'm con-

For God had a right to recall what he lent.

It was Joseph's ill fortune to work in a pit
With some who believ'd tUat profaneneqs was

When disasters bofel him much pleasure they

And laugh'd and said — Joseph, will this work

for good?
But ever when these would profanely advance
That thie happen'd by luck, and that happen'd

by chance ;
Still Joseph insisted no chance could be fonnd,
Not a sparrow by accident falls to the ground.
Among his companions who work'd in the pit,
And made him the butt of their profligate wit,
Was idle Tim Jenkins, who drank and who

Who mock'd at his BiUe, and was not asham'd.
One day at the pit his old comrades be found,
And they chatted, preparing to go under ground
Tim Jenkins, as usual, was turning to jest,
Joe's notion — that aU tking$ whieh hmppen*d

As Joe on the ground had unthinkingly laid
His provision for dinner, of bacon and bread,
A dog on the watch, seis'd the bread and the

And off with his pre^ ran with footsteps so fleet.
Now to see the delight that Tim Jenkins 0z-

press'd !

* Is the loss of thy dinner too, Joe for the best 7*

* No doubt on't,' said Joe ; * but as I must eat,
'Tis mj duty to try to recover my moat'

So mym^, he fc^ow'd the dog a long nmnd,
While Tiro, laughing and swearing, went down

under ground. Post,

Poor Joe soon retum'd, though his bacon was
For the dog a good dinner had made at his cost
When Joseph came back he expected a sneer.
But the face of each c<4]ier spoke horror and

fear ; [said.

What a narrow escape bast thou had, they all
The pit 's fall'n in, and Tim Jenkim is dead !
How sincere was the gratitude Joseph express'd !
How warm the compassion which glow'd in his

Thus eventi great and small, if aright onder-

Will be fbund to be working together for good.

* When my meat,' Joseph cry'd • was just now

stc^'n away.
And I had no^rospect of eating to-day.

How could it appear to a shortsighted sinner,
That my life would be sa:v'd by the loss of m(T




Look through the land fi'om north to sooth.

And hxk from east to west,
And see what is to Englishmen

Of life the deadliest pest
It is not want, though tl»t is bad.

Nor war, though that is worse
But Britons brave endure, alas !

A self-inflicted curse.
Go where you will, throughout the realiB^

You'll find the reignmg sin.
In cities, villages, and towns,

— ^The monster*s name is Gin.

Digitized by



Tbe prinoe of darkness never sent

To man a deadlier foe,
* Mj name is Legion,' it may say,

Hie source ef many a wo.
Nor does the fiend alone deprive
The labourer of his wealth :
That is not all, it murders too

His honest name and health.
We say 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 self-impos'd.

Like every other sin ;
The taxes aitegether lay

No weight so great as Gin.
The state eompels no man to drink,

Compels no man to game,
'Tim Gin and Gambling sink him down

To ragsi, and want, and shame.
The kindest husband, changM by Gin,

Is ibr a tyrant known ;
The tenderest heart that nature made,

Beoomes a heart of stone.
In many a house the harmless babes

Are poorly cbth*d and fed.
Because the craving Gin-shop takes

Tbe children's daily bread.
Come, neighbour, take a walk with me,

Through many a London street,
And see the eanse of penury

In hundreds we shall meet
We shall not need to travel fiur—

Behold that great man's door ;
He well disoeras yon idle crew

From the deserving poor.
He win relieve with liberal hand.

The child of honest thrift ;
But where k»ng scores of Gm-shope stand

He will withhold his gift.
Behold that shiv'ring fem Ja there,

Who plie9 her woftil trade !
Tb ten to one you'll find that Gin

That hopeless wretch has made.
I^iok down those st^ps, and view bek>w

Yoo oeOar under ground,
TTiere er'ry want and ev'ry wo

And ev'ry sin is.fiHind.
Tliooe little wretches trembling there.

With hunger and with cold.
Were by their parents' love of Gin,

To sin and nusery sold.
Bfest be those friends* to human kind

Who take these wretches up,
E'er they have drunk the bitter drsgi

^ Tbe Pbilaathropie Soeisty.

Of their sad parents ' eup.
Look through that prison's iron ban.

Look through that dismal grate,
And learn what dire misfortune brought

So terrible a fate.
The debtor and the fokm too.

Though differing much in sin,^
Too oft you'll find were thither brought

By all-destroying Gin.
Yet Heav'n forbid I should oonfound

Calamity with guilt .
Or name the debtor's lesser fault

With bkxNl of brother spilt
To prieon dire misfortune on

The guiltless debtor brings ,
Yet oft'ner far it will be found

From Gin the misery springs.
See the pale manufacturer there,

How lank end lean he lies !
How haggard is his sickly cheek !

How dim his hollow eyes !
He plied the loom with good sueeess^

His wages still were high,
Twice what the village hb'rer gains.

His master did supply.
No book^ebts kept him fh)m his eaah,

All paid as soon as due
His wages on the Saturday
^ To fail he never knew.
How ampl^ had his gains suffic'd

On wife and children spent !
But all must for his pleasures go^

All to the Gin-shop went
See that apprentice, young in years.

But hackney'd long m sin,
What made him rob his master's till ?

Alas ! 'twas love of ^.
inat serving man«->-I knew him once,

So jaunty, spruce, and smart !
Why did he steal, then pawn the plate T

'Twas Gin ensnar'd his heart
But hark ! what dismal sound was that f

'TIS Saint Sepulchre's bel! !
It tolls, alas, for human guilt,

Some malefactor's £ien.
O ! woful sotmd ! O ! what could cause

Such punishment and sin 7
Hark ! bear his words, he owns the eauso-

Bad Company and Gin.
And when the fbture lot is fiz'd

Of darkness, fire, and chains,
How can the drunkard hope to 'scape

Those everlasting pains !
For if the murd'rer 's doom'd to wo,

As Holy, Writ dedues,
The drunkard wHh self-mnrdeieis.

That dreadfiil portion shares.



Two gardeners once beneath un oak,
Lay dkywn to rest, when Jack thus spoke :
* Yon must confess dear Will that Nature
Is bat a bhindering kind of creature ;
And I — nay, why that look of terror 7
Could teach her how to mend her error.'

« Your talk,' qnolhWUl, isboldandodd
What you call Nature, I eaU God.'
^ Well, call him by what name tou will,
Quoth Jack, ^ he manages but ill ;
Nay, from the very tree we 're under,
I'll prove that Providenoe can blunder.'
Quoth WiU, * Through thick and thin you dasa.
I shudder Jack, at words s( rash *

Digitized by VjOOQlC



I trust to what the Soriptoref tell,
He hath done always all things weH.*
Quoth Jack, t I*ai latelj grown a wit,
And think all good a lucky hit.
To Prove that Providence can err,
Not words but facts the truth aver.
To this vast Dak lift up thine ejreo,
Then view that acorn^s paltry size ;
How ibolish on a tree so tall,
To place that tiny cup and balL
N^ow look again, yon pompion* see.
It weighs two pounds at least, nay three *
Yet this large Iruit, where is it found 7
Why, meanly trailing on the ground.
Had Providence ask*d m^ advice,
I would have chang*d it in a trice ;
[ would have said at Nature^s birth.
Let Acorns creep upon the earth ;
But let the pompion, vast and round.
On the oak*s lofty boughs be found.*
He said — and as he ra«hlv spoke,
Lo ! from the branches of the oak,
A wind, which suddenly arose.
Beat showers of acorns on his nose ;

* Oh ! oh :' quoth Jack, * Pm wrong I sec.
And God is wiser for than me.

For did a shaw'r of pompions large.
Thus on my naked face discharge,
I had been brusM and blinded quite,
What heav*n appoints I find is right ;
Wliene'er I*m tempted to rebel,
1*11 thmk how light the acorns fell ;
Wheieas on oaks had pompions hung,
My broken skull had stoppM my toogoe.



A woKTHT w^uire of sober lifo
Had a conceited boasting wife :
Of Aim she daily made complaint,
Herself she thought a very saint
She lovM to load mankind with blame,
And on their errors build her fame.
Her favorite subject of dispute
Was Eve and the fqrbidden fruit

* Had I been Eve,* she often cried,

* Man had not fall*n, nor woman died;
I still had kept the orders giv*n.

Nor for an apple lost my heav*n ;
To gratify my curious mind
I ne*er had ruin*d all mankind
Nor from a vain desire to know,
£ntail*d on all my race such wo.*

The squire reply*d ; * I fear *tis true.
The same ill spirit livei in yon ;
Tempted alike, I dare believe.
You would have disobey*d like Eve.'
The lad^ storm'd, and still deny*d
Bin, curiosity, and pride.

The squire, some future day at dinner,
Resolv'd to t^ this boastfbl sinner ;
He crrievM such vanity possest her.
And thus in serious terms addresi'd her :
Madam, the usual splendid foast.
With which our wedding day is grac*d,
With you I roust not share to-day
For busiQess summons me away.
• Oourd

Of all the dainties I*ve prepared,

I beg not any may be spar*d ;

Indulge in ev*ry costly dish.

Enjoy, *tis what I really vnsh ,

Only observe one prohibition.

Nor think it a severe condition ;

On one small dish which Gover*d stands.

You must not dare to lay your hands

Go-— Disobey not on your life.

Or henceforth you *re no more my wife.'

The treat was serv*d, the squire was goon,
The murm'ring lady din'd alone :
She saw whate*er could grace a foast.
Or charm the eye, or please the taste :
But while she rang*d from this to that,
From ven*son haunch to turtle fat ;
On one small dish she chanc*d to light.
By a deep cover hid from sight :
O ! here it is — ^yet not for me !
I must not taste, nay, dare not see ;
Why place it there ? or why forbid
That I so much as lift the Ud 7
Prohibited of this to eat,
I care not for the sumptuous treat
I wonder if *tis fowl or fish.
To know what *s there I merely wish
I *11 look — O no, I lose forever.
If I *m betray*d, my busband*s favour.
I I own I think it vastly hard.
Nay, tyranny, to be debarr*d.
John, you may go — the wine's decanted,
I *11 rinj^ or call you when you *re wanted.
Now left alone, she waits no longer ;
Temptation presses more and stronger.

* I *11 peep— the harm can ne*er be muchy
For though I peep, I will not touch ;
Why I *m forbid to lift this cover.

One glance will tell, and then 'tis over
My husband *s absent ; so is John,
My peeping never can be known,*
Trembhnff, she yielded to her wish.
And nusM the cover from the dish :
She starts — for lo ! an open pie
From which six living sparrows fly.
She calls, she screams, with wild surprise,

* Haste, John, and catch these birds,' she cries
John hears not ; but to crown her shame.

In at her call her husband.came.
Sternly he frown'd as thus he spc^

* Thus is your vow*d allegiance broke !
Self.ign*rano(9 led you to believe

You did not share the sin of Eve
Like hers, how blest was your oondition !
Like heav*ns, how small my prohibiUon I
Yet you, though fed with every dainty
Sat pining in Uie midst of plenty ;
This dish, thus singled from the rest.
Of your obedience was the test;
Your mind, unbroke by self-denial.
Could not sustain this tender triaL
Humility from this be taught.
Learn candour to another's fault ,
Go know, like Eve, fit>m this sad dinner
You *re both a vain a curious sinner.*


Or^ the Farmer and hi$ Three Son$.

A Fakmer, who some wealth possest.
With three fine boys was also blest ;

...gitized by Google


The Uds were heahhj, ptout and joung,
And neither wanted sense nor tongue.
Tom, Will, and Jack, like other boys,
Lo^*d tope and naarbles, sport and toys.
The &ther scouted that false plan,
That money only makes the man ;
Bat, to the best of his disoeminfi;.
Wo bent on giving them good learning ;
He was a man of obseryation.
No 8oh<4ar, yet had penetration ;
So with doe care, a school he sought,
Where his young sons might well be taught
Qooih he, * I know not which rehearses
Most properly his themes or verses ;
Tet I can do a father's part.
And school the temper, mind, and heart ;
The natural bent of each I *I1 know,
And trifles best that bent may show.*
*Twss jost before the closing year.
When Christmas holidajrs were near,
The ftrmer callM to see hb bojrs.
And ask how each his time employs.
QooCh Will, •There's father, boys, without.
He *s brought us something good, no doubt*
The &ther sees their merry nces.
With joy beholds them, and embraoes.
' Come, bo^s, of home ^on *11 have your filL*

* Tea, Christmas now is near,* says Will ;

* *Tis just twelve days — these notches see,
My notches with the days agree.* '

* WelV said the sire, « again 1*11 come,
And gladly fetch my brave boys home !
Toa two the dappled mare shall ride.
Jack mount the pony by my side ; ^
Meantime, my lads, I've brought you her»
No small provision of good cheer.*

Then fbom his pocket straight he takes,

A vast profusion of plum-cakes ;

He ooonts them out, a plenteous store,

No boy shall have or lees or more ;

Twelve cakes he gives to each dear son.

When each expected onl v one ;

And then, with many a kind expression,

He leaves them to their own discretion ;

Reeolv'd to mark the use each made

Of what he to their hands oonvey*d.

The twelve days past, he comes once more,
And brings the horses to the door
Hie boys with rapture tee appear
The poney and the dappled mare ;
Eaeh naoment now an hour they count.
And crack their whips and long to mount
Km with the boys his ride he takes.
He asks the history of the cakes.

Says Will, « Dear father, life is short,
So I resolv*d to make quick sport ;
The cakes were aO so nice and sweet,
I thought I'd have one jolly treat ;
Why should I balk, said I, my taste 7
I *11 make at once a hearty feast
So snugly by myself I fed.
When every boy wo gone to bed ;
I gorged them ail, both paste and plum,
And did not spare a single crumb ;
Indeed they made me, to my sorrow,
As sick o death upon the morrow ;
Iliis made me mourn my rich repast,
And wish I had not fed so fast*
Quoth Jack, * I wo not such a dunce,
T^ eat my quantum up at once ;

And though the boys all k)ng*d to clutch *em
I would net let a creatare touch *em ;
Nor though the whole were in my fow'r.
Would I one single cake devour ;
Thanks to the use of keys and locks.
They *re all now snag within my box ;
The mischief is, by hoarding long.
They *re grown so mouldy and so strong,
I find they won't be fit to eat.
And I have lost my fiither's treat*

* WeH, Tom,* the anxious parent cries,
' How did you manage V Tom replies,

* I shun*d each wide extreme to take,
To glut my maw, or hoard my cake ;

I thought each day its wants would have,
And appetite again might crave ;
Twelve school-days still my notches counted
To twelve my father's cakes amounted ;
So ev'ry day I took out one,
But never ate my cake alone ;
With eT*ry needy boy I shar'd,
And more than half I always spar'd.
One ey*ry day, "twixt self and friend.
Has brought my dozen to an end :
My last remaining cake to-day
I would not touch, but gave away ;
A boy wo sick, and scarce could eat.
To him it prov'd a welcome treat :
Jack call'd me spendthrift not to save ,
Will dubb'd me fool because I gave ;
But when our last day came, I smil'd.
For Will's were gone, and Jack's were spoil'd
Not hoarding much, nor eating fast,
I sery'd a needy friend at last*
These tales the Other's thoughts employ ;

* By these,* said he, * I know each boy :
Tet Jack, who hoarded what he had.
The world will call a fVogal lad ; ^
And selfish gormandizing Will

Will meet with friends and fav*rers still *
While moderate Tom, so wise and cool.
The mad and vain will deem a fook
But I, his sober plan approve.
And Tom ho gam'd his father*s love.*

So when our day of life is pot.
And aU are fairly judg'd at last ;
The miser and the sensual find
How each misused the gifU assiffn'd :
While he, who wisely spends and gives.
To the true ends of Jiving lives ;
'TIS selMenying moderation
Gains the Great Father's approbatioiL



nr a JUASjoavit bit w m i diok and john

As at their work two weavers sat.
Beguiling time with fViendly chat ;
They touch'd upon the price of meat,
So high, a weaver scarce could eat.
What with my brats and sickly wife,'
Qaoth Dick, « I 'm almost tir'd of life ;
So hard my work, so poor my fare,
'Tis more than mortal man can bear
* How glorious is the ri(,h man's state !
His house so fine ! his wealth so great !

Digitized by VjOOQiC


HeaT*ii h onjait, yoa miut agree ;

Why all to him 7 why none to me 7 ^

* In tpite of v^hat the Scripture teachef,
In apite of all the parson preaches,

This world (indeed I Ve thought so long)
Is rul'd, methbks, eitremely wrong.

* Where'er I look, howe*er I range,
*Tis all confusM, and hard, and strange ;
The good are troubled and oppress'd
And all the wieked are the bless'd.*
Quoth John : * Our ign*rance is the ccose
Why thus we blame our Maker's laws ;
ParU of his way$ alone we know,

*Tis all that man ean see below,

* See'st thoa that carpet, not half done.
Which thou, dear Dick, hast well began 7
Behold the wild confusion there.

So rude the mass it makes one stare!

* A stranger, ign'rant of the trade.
Would say, no meaning's there oonivy'd ;
For where 's the middle, where 's the border?
Thy carpet now is all disorder.'

Quoth Dick, * My work is yet in biti,
But still in ev'ry part it fits ;
Besides, you reason like a lout, .
Why, man, that carpet 't in$ide mL*

Says John, * Thou say'st the thing I mean.
And now I hope to cure thy spleen ;
This world, which clouds thy soul with doubt,
hbut a carpet inside out.

* As when we view these shreds and ends,
We know not what the whole intends;
So when on earth things look but odd.
They 're working still some scheme of God

* No plan, no pattern, ean we trace.
All wants proportion, truth, and grace ;
The motley mixture we deride.

Nor see the beauteous upper side.

* But when we reach that world of light.
And view those works of God aright,
Then shall we see the whole design.
And own the workman is divine.

* What now seems random strokes, will there
All order and design appear ;

Then shall we praise what here we spum*d.
For then the carpet shall he turri'd,*
*Thou'rt right,' quoth Dick, *no more III

That this sad world 's so strange a jumble ;
My impious doubts are put to night.
For my own carpet sets me right.'


Or, Iks NMs ArmysfMsrhfn

Yov who love a tale of glory,

Listen to the song I sing ;
Ueroee of the Christian story.

Are the heroes I shall bring.
ItTarriors of the world, avaunt !

Other heroes me engage :
lis not such as you I want.

Saints and martyrs grace my page.
Warriors, who the world o'ercame

Were in brother's blood imbru'd ;
iVhile the saints of purer fame,

Greater far, themselves subdu'd.
Fearful Christian I hear with wonder.

Of the saints of whom I tell ;
kome were burnt, some sawn asunder,

Some by fire or torture fbll ;
Some to savage beasts were hurl'd,

One escap'd the lion's den ;
Was a persecuting world

Worthy of these wond'rous men?
Some in fiery furnace thrown.

Yet escap'd unsingM their hair ;
There Almighty pow'r was shown t

For the Son of God was there.
Let us crown with deathless fame

Those who scorn'd and hated ML ;
Martyrs met contempt and shame.

Fearing nought but sin and hell.
How the show'r of stones descended.

Holy Stephen, on thy head !
While his tongue the truth defended.

How the glorious martyr bled !
See his fierce reviler Saul,

How he rails with impious breath !
Then observe converted Paul,

Oft in perils, oft in death.

'Twas that God, whose ■ov'reign pow^,

Did the Ibn's fury 'swage.
Could alone, in one short hour.

Still the persecutor's rage.
E*en a woman — women hear.

Read in Maccabees the story !
Conquered nature, love, and fear.

To obtain a crown of glory.
Seven stout sons she saw expire,

(How the mother's soul was pain'd .)
Some by sword, and some by fire,

(How the martyr was sustain'd !)
E'en in death's acutest anguish.

Each the tyrant still defy'd;
E!ach she saw in torture languish.

Last of all the mother dy'd.
Martyrs who were thus arrested,

In their short but bright career ,
By their blood the truth attested,

Prov'd their fiiith and love sincere.
Though their lot was hard and k>wly.

Though they perish'd at the stake.
Now they live with Christ in glory.

Since they sufibr'd for his sake.
Fierce and unbelieving foes

But their bodies could destroy ;
Short though bitter were their woee

Everlasting is their joy.


O how wond'rous is the story
Of our blest Redeemer's birth !

See the miglfty Lord of Gk>ry
Leave his heav'n to visit earth !

Hear with transport, ev'ry creature,
Hear the Gospel's joyfbl sound ;

Digitized by




CSinitkppeftra in human xiatiure,

In our tiofy world ia fimnd |
GNnes to ptrdoo our tran^ression.

Like a cload oar aina to blot;
Cornea to hia owa fiiToiir*d nation.

Bat his own receive him not
If the ancela who attended

To ^edare the Savioor'a birth,
Who firom heav'n with aonga deecended

To pi^daim good will on earth :
If; in pity to oar blindneaa.

They had branght the pardon needed,
SdU Jebovah*8 wond'roua kindneaa

Had oar wanneat hopea exceeded :

Online LibraryHannah MoreThe complete works of Hannah More → online text (page 10 of 135)