The Poems and Miscellaneous Compositions of Paul Whitehead With Explanatory Notes on his Writings, and His life written by Captain Edward Thompson. With a Head of the Author, From a Painting by Mr. Gainsborough |
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 | The Poems and Miscellaneous Compositions of Paul Whitehead |  |
150
SONG,
Sung by Mr. Beard at the Annual Meeting of the President, Vice-Presidents, Governors, &c. of the London Hospital.
Of Trophies and Laurels I mean not to sing,
Of Prussia's brave Prince, or of Britain's good King:
Here the Poor claim my song; then the art I'll display,
How you all shall be gainers—by giving away.
Derry down.
Of Prussia's brave Prince, or of Britain's good King:
Here the Poor claim my song; then the art I'll display,
How you all shall be gainers—by giving away.
Derry down.
The cruse of the widow, you very well know,
The more it was emptied, the fuller did flow:
So here with your Purse the like wonder you'll find;
The more you draw out, still—the more left behind.
Derry down.
The more it was emptied, the fuller did flow:
So here with your Purse the like wonder you'll find;
The more you draw out, still—the more left behind.
Derry down.
The Prodigal here without danger may spend;
That ne'er can be lavish'd, to Heaven we lend;
And the Miser his purse-strings may draw without pain,
For what miser won't give—when giving is Gain?
Derry down.
That ne'er can be lavish'd, to Heaven we lend;
151
For what miser won't give—when giving is Gain?
Derry down.
The Gamester, who sits up whole days and whole nights,
To hazard his health and his fortune at White's;
Much more to advantage his Betts he may make,
Here, set what he will, he will double his Stake.
Derry down.
To hazard his health and his fortune at White's;
Much more to advantage his Betts he may make,
Here, set what he will, he will double his Stake.
Derry down.
The Fair-one, whose heart the Four Aces controul,
Who sighs for Sans-prendre, and dreams of a Vole,
Let her here send a tithe of her gains at Quadrille,
And she'll ne'er want a friend—in victorious Spadille.
Derry down.
Who sighs for Sans-prendre, and dreams of a Vole,
Let her here send a tithe of her gains at Quadrille,
And she'll ne'er want a friend—in victorious Spadille.
Derry down.
Let the Merchant, who trades on the perilous sea,
Come here, and insure, if from loss he'd be free;
A Policy here from all danger secures,
For safe is the Venture—which Heaven insures.
Derry down.
Come here, and insure, if from loss he'd be free;
A Policy here from all danger secures,
For safe is the Venture—which Heaven insures.
Derry down.
152
The Stock-jobber too many subscribe without fear,
In a Fund which for ever a Premium must bear;
Where the Stock must still rise, and where Scrip will prevail,
Tho' South-Sea, and India, and Omnium, should fail.
Derry down.
In a Fund which for ever a Premium must bear;
Where the Stock must still rise, and where Scrip will prevail,
Tho' South-Sea, and India, and Omnium, should fail.
Derry down.
The Churchman likewise his advantage may draw,
And here buy a Living, in spite of the Law—
In Heaven, I mean; then, without any fear,
Let him purchase away—here's no Simony here.
Derry down.
And here buy a Living, in spite of the Law—
In Heaven, I mean; then, without any fear,
Let him purchase away—here's no Simony here.
Derry down.
Ye Rakes, who the joys of Hymen disclaim,
And seek, in the ruin of Virtue, a fame;
You may here boast a triumph consistent with duty,
And keep, without guilt, a Seraglio of Beauty.
Derry down.
And seek, in the ruin of Virtue, a fame;
You may here boast a triumph consistent with duty,
And keep, without guilt, a Seraglio of Beauty.
Derry down.
153
If from Charity then such advantages flow,
That you still gain the more—the more you bestow;
Here's the place will afford you rich profit with ease:
When the Bason comes round—be as rich as you please.
Derry down.
That you still gain the more—the more you bestow;
Here's the place will afford you rich profit with ease:
When the Bason comes round—be as rich as you please.
Derry down.
Then a health to that Patron, whose grandeur and store
Yield aid and defence to the Sick and the Poor;
Who no Courtier can flatter, no Patriot can blame:
But, our President's here—or I'd tell you his name.
Derry down.
Yield aid and defence to the Sick and the Poor;
Who no Courtier can flatter, no Patriot can blame:
But, our President's here—or I'd tell you his name.
Derry down.
| The Poems and Miscellaneous Compositions of Paul Whitehead | |