 | The Last Poems of Philip Freneau |  |
63
To a Young Person Addicted to the Gaming Table
Nullem numen abest si sit Prudentia præsens.
To build your hopes on Fortune's wheel
Is folly in the extreme,
Deceitful as a harlot's smile,
Delusive as a dream:
Ah, let the cards, the dice, alone,
That wealth ensure to few or none.
Is folly in the extreme,
Deceitful as a harlot's smile,
Delusive as a dream:
Ah, let the cards, the dice, alone,
That wealth ensure to few or none.
Too often to your trembling hand
Eudocia deals, Eudocia plays,
In hopes to knot the marriage band,
And with you pass her halcyon days:
A thousand TRICKS she wears, with ease,
And yet, in every trick, can please.
Eudocia deals, Eudocia plays,
In hopes to knot the marriage band,
And with you pass her halcyon days:
A thousand TRICKS she wears, with ease,
And yet, in every trick, can please.
If sense, or reason swayed her heart,
She must despise your play;
Would rather see you drive a cart
Than first-rate Gambler of the day:—
Esteem that from discernment springs,
And Jack of Clubs, are different things.
She must despise your play;
Would rather see you drive a cart
Than first-rate Gambler of the day:—
Esteem that from discernment springs,
And Jack of Clubs, are different things.
An ancient Sage at Athens said
“If prudence we possess,
No other Deity we need
To work our happiness”—
And, for a Stoick, he said true,
In Grecian style, in Reason's view
“If prudence we possess,
No other Deity we need
To work our happiness”—
And, for a Stoick, he said true,
In Grecian style, in Reason's view
One Goblet brings another on,
To cheer you when you lose;
The sharper asks your watch in pawn
For what he counts his dues:
Observing this, as people will,
They hold you—travelling down the hill!
To cheer you when you lose;
The sharper asks your watch in pawn
For what he counts his dues:
64
They hold you—travelling down the hill!
I saw you sip your glass of Gin,
I heard you fret and brawl:
But they who lose, and they who win,
In truth, are losers all:—
They lose their time, they lose their fame,
And money leaves them—as it came.
I heard you fret and brawl:
But they who lose, and they who win,
In truth, are losers all:—
They lose their time, they lose their fame,
And money leaves them—as it came.
Instead of asking, what's the hour?
You sat in doleful dumps;
And ask your Partner, looking sour,
You asked him, What is Trumps?—
The clock went on, not fast or slow,
But often said, 'Tis time to go!
You sat in doleful dumps;
And ask your Partner, looking sour,
You asked him, What is Trumps?—
The clock went on, not fast or slow,
But often said, 'Tis time to go!
The wakeful night, the drowsy day
Is not in Nature's scheme;
Does she her solar orb display
That man may doze and dream,
Exclude the light, for sloth disposed
On beds of down, with windows closed!
Is not in Nature's scheme;
Does she her solar orb display
That man may doze and dream,
Exclude the light, for sloth disposed
On beds of down, with windows closed!
Their purpose thus if some pursue
Take warning by their fate,
Their minds are soured, their days are few,
And Bailiffs round them wait,
To shew the effects of wasted years,
And fill Eudocia's eyes with tears.
Take warning by their fate,
Their minds are soured, their days are few,
And Bailiffs round them wait,
To shew the effects of wasted years,
And fill Eudocia's eyes with tears.
| The Last Poems of Philip Freneau | |