Poems on Several Occasions In which are included, The Toilette and The Fall. By Joseph Thurston ... The Second Edition |
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The WIFE.
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 | Poems on Several Occasions |  |
The WIFE.
Of all the Blessings Heav'n has lent to Life,
The greatest Pleasure is a faithful Wife.
Ye wandring Rakes, whom Temple walls enclose,
Ye springing Coxcombs, and ye batter'd Beaux,
Attend my Song while thus to sing I dare,
And stand alone the Champion of the Fair.
The greatest Pleasure is a faithful Wife.
Ye wandring Rakes, whom Temple walls enclose,
Ye springing Coxcombs, and ye batter'd Beaux,
Attend my Song while thus to sing I dare,
And stand alone the Champion of the Fair.
51
Say ye whom Love incautious has betray'd,
And cloath'd the Harlot in the Country Maid;
All ye whom rugged rules of Health confine
From social banquets, and indulgent wine;
Who shun the Taverns, once your lov'd resort,
And fill with meagre Soop the place of Port:
Say, would ye quit this most poluted life,
And change the Hummer for the wholesome Wife?
Your various ills to Husbands are unknown;
How blest in Safety to enjoy their own!
No creeping Poysons on their vigour prey,
Enjoyment crowns the night, and Health the day.
Secure they quaff the bowl, and taste the food,
Nor fear the sharpness of to-morrow's Blood.
And cloath'd the Harlot in the Country Maid;
All ye whom rugged rules of Health confine
From social banquets, and indulgent wine;
Who shun the Taverns, once your lov'd resort,
And fill with meagre Soop the place of Port:
Say, would ye quit this most poluted life,
And change the Hummer for the wholesome Wife?
Your various ills to Husbands are unknown;
How blest in Safety to enjoy their own!
No creeping Poysons on their vigour prey,
Enjoyment crowns the night, and Health the day.
Secure they quaff the bowl, and taste the food,
Nor fear the sharpness of to-morrow's Blood.
Behold the Libertine's inverted fate!
What Pains, what Tortures on his slumbers wait!
No soft Sommeils his early hours adorn,
He never rises to a cheerful Morn.
No fragrant cups of elegant Bohea
At his neglected breakfast-board you see;
With tastless Gruel he salutes the day,
Or quaffs the streams of more detested Whey.
When Pains are pungent, with peculiar Grace
He wrings the Muscles of his livid face;
With pious fury damns the tainted Whore,
Add vows to taste th' infected Joy no more.
What Pains, what Tortures on his slumbers wait!
No soft Sommeils his early hours adorn,
He never rises to a cheerful Morn.
No fragrant cups of elegant Bohea
At his neglected breakfast-board you see;
With tastless Gruel he salutes the day,
Or quaffs the streams of more detested Whey.
When Pains are pungent, with peculiar Grace
He wrings the Muscles of his livid face;
With pious fury damns the tainted Whore,
Add vows to taste th' infected Joy no more.
52
His Rooms themselves their master well declare,
A motley scene of Ruin, Waste, and War:
Here in a Glass some hideous scene you view
Of poys'nous substance, and unseemly hue:
There nauseous Pastes, ungrateful to behold,
And Pills encompass'd with delusive gold:
His dusty Shelves, with loath'd Remains o'erspread,
Profane the Labours of the mighty Dead:
On the dire prospect we with Horror look,
Promiscuous scene of Gallipot and Coke!
A motley scene of Ruin, Waste, and War:
Here in a Glass some hideous scene you view
Of poys'nous substance, and unseemly hue:
There nauseous Pastes, ungrateful to behold,
And Pills encompass'd with delusive gold:
His dusty Shelves, with loath'd Remains o'erspread,
Profane the Labours of the mighty Dead:
On the dire prospect we with Horror look,
Promiscuous scene of Gallipot and Coke!
With these Reflexions, to reform his life,
The wise Apicius took to him a Wife;
Fair, wealthy, chaste she was, discreet and gay;
Her only Failing, that she'd sometimes play.
Apicius thank'd his stars which kindly shone,
And sent him Blessings 'till that hour unknown.
He thank'd not long; Quadrille purloin'd his Wealth,
Beggar in Purse he prov'd, but rich in Health.
In a repenting mood I heard him say,
“Women are certain Ruin every way.
The wise Apicius took to him a Wife;
Fair, wealthy, chaste she was, discreet and gay;
Her only Failing, that she'd sometimes play.
Apicius thank'd his stars which kindly shone,
And sent him Blessings 'till that hour unknown.
He thank'd not long; Quadrille purloin'd his Wealth,
Beggar in Purse he prov'd, but rich in Health.
In a repenting mood I heard him say,
“Women are certain Ruin every way.
| Poems on Several Occasions | |