About the hospitable gate
Crowds of dejected wretches wait;
Each day kind Bob's diffusive hand
Cheer'd and refresh'd the tatter'd band,
Proud the most godlike joy to share,
He fed the hungry, cloth'd the bare.
Frank amongst these his station chose,
With looks revealing inward woes;
When, lo! with wonder and surprise,
He saw Dame Fortune in disguise;
He saw, but scarce believ'd his eyes.
Her fawning smiles, her tricking air
Th' egregious hypocrite declare;
A gipsy's mantle round her spread,
Of various dye, white, yellow, red;
Strange feats she promis'd, clamour'd loud,
And with her cant amus'd the crowd:
There ev'ry day impatient ply'd,
Push'd to get in, but still deny'd ;
For Bob, who knew the subtle whore,
Thrust the false vagrant from his door;
But when the stranger's face he view'd,
With no deceitful tears bedew'd,
His boding heart began to melt,
And more than usual pity felt:
He trac'd his features o'er and o'er,
That spoke him better born tho' poor,
Tho' cloth'd in rags, genteel his mien,
That face he somewhere must have seen:
Nature at last reveals the truth;
He knows and owns the hapless youth.
Surpris'd and speechless, both embrace,
And mingling tears o'erflow each face,
Till Bob thus eas'd his lab'ring thought,
And this instructive moral taught:
"Welcome, my brother! to my longing arms, "Here on my bosom rest secure from harms; "See Fortune there, that false delusive jade, "To whom thy pray'rs and ardent vows were paid; "She (like her sex) the fond pursuer flies, "But slight the jilt, and at thy feet she dies. "Now safe in port, indulge thyself on shore, "Oh! tempt the faithless winds and seas no more; "Let unavailing toils and dangers past,
"Tho' late, this useful lesson teach at last,
"True happiness is only to be found
"In a contented mind, a body sound;
"All else is dream, a dance on Fairy ground;
"While restless fools each idle whim pursue,
"And still one wish obtain'd creates a new,
"Like froward babes, the toys they have detest, "While still the newest trifle pleases best: "Let us, my brother! rich in wisdom's store, "What Heav'n has lent enjoy, nor covet more; "Subdue our passions, curb their saucy rage, "And to ourselves restore the Golden Age."
A VICAR liv'd on this side Trent,
Religious, learn'd, benevolent;
Pure was his life in deed, word, thought,
A comment on the truths he taught;
His parish large, his income small,
Yet seldom wanted wherewithal,
For against ev'ry merry tide
Madam would carefully provide.
A painful pastor, but his sheep,
Alas! within no bounds would keep;
A scabby flock, that ev'ry day
Run riot, and would go astray.
He thump'd his cushion, fretted, vext,
Thumb'd o'er again each useful text;
Rebuk'd, exhorted, all in vain,
His parish was the more profane:
The scrubs would have their wicked will,
And cunning Satan triumph'd still.
At last, when each expedient fail'd,
And serious measures nought avail'd,
It came into his head to try
The force of wit and raillery.
The good man was by nature gay,
Could jibe and joke as well as pray;
Not like some hide-bound folk, who chase
Each merry smile from their dull face,
And think pride zeal, ill-nature grace.
At christ'nings and each jovial feast
He singled out the sinful beast;
Let all his pointed arrows fly,
Told this and that, look'd very sly,
And left my masters to apply.
His tales were hum'rous, often true,
And now and then set off to view
With lucky fictions and sheer wit,
That pierc'd where truth could never hit.
The laugh was always on his side,
While passive fools by turns deride;
And, giggling thus at one another,
Each jeering lout reform'd his brother,
Till the whole parish was with ease
Sham'd into virtue by degrees:
Then be advis'd, and try a Tale,
When Chrysostom and Austin fail.
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