University of Virginia Library

A gay, young Man, with Spirits strong & high,
Was listening to his widowed Mother's Sigh,
The well-known Prelude to that grave Discourse,
Which he expected as a Thing of Course,
And heard with due Respect; for he was One
Who felt & owned the Duty of a Son,
And prized that Love which sometimes gave him Pain
That so much Wisdom was bestowed in vain.
Among his Friends, for so he used to call
All his Companions, for he loved them All,
I left a Youth, who in his twentieth Year,
Had his Associates but had not his Peer.
The Lasses all addresst him as a Man,
But when his Mother her Reproofs began,
With sad fixed Features, but with Accent mild:
“How canst thou grieve me thus, my thoughtless Child?
“Thy Heart is hardened grown, & all thy Ways are wild.
“It is thy Boast the Laugh of Fools to raise,
“And thou art fond of Pleasure, fond of Praise.
“Talents thou hast, but they were lent for Use;
“Thine but that barren Praise of Fools produce.
“Where's that Increase, that he who gave designed?
“Not to improve is to debase the Mind.
“Thy Father's Pride, e'er to his Grave convey'd,
“Thee shall thy Mother, in her Fear, upbraid?
“Thou'st Courage, Rd, but the bravest Deed
“Should be thy Choice, the noblest Praise thy Meed.
“And is it not the noblest Act to stem
“The Passion's Currants, not be forced by them,
“Not their strong Impulse weakly to obey,
“And headlong hurry where they lead the Way?
“Pause then and pray, and God will give thee Grace
“To fly from Sin and Folly's frantic Chace
“Of fancied Good, which those alone enjoy,
“Who first all Sense of real Good distroy.
“Nay, be not weary”—for the Youth gave Proof,
Though still respectful, that he heard enough,
For if he silent and submissive bowed,
'Twas not that he the serious truths allowed;
Submissive he & silent, for he knew
His Time was short'ned, if his words were few.
From fond reproving Fear, to Scenes he loved,
With quickened Pace and eager Mind he moved;
There the chief Place where none but he may sit,
There the loud Laugh of bold Attempts at Wit,
There dubious Facts that daring Oaths attest,
The Tale licentious and the sportive Jest,
With Language such as when Reflection came,
He, who could most applaud, found much to blame.
Here Richard listened to th' Applause he felt,
Till in his heart the poisoned Flattery dwelt.
So gay, so joyous, his Companions swore
Poins was his Name, & Richard was no more.
Poins then he was, and his Associates led
In all Adventures, he their heart and Head,
Their Mischief's bold Contriver, Champion stout,
Their Guide in Danger, & their Pride when out.
When in their favourite Inn they sang Aloud,
Pleased with themselves, & of their Leader proud,
Poins was their Boast, a fit Companion He
To any Prince in any Court might be,
Yea, Prince himself, as long as he could say:
“Bring in”, & then in prince-like Manner pay.
Th' obedient Host his every Call obeyed,
As if the Honour for the Service paid,
For well he judged that unpledged Acres yet
Remained, & gave their Sanction to the debt.
How long to serve he could not justly tell,
But while the Lady held them, All was well.
A Youth like this, with Spirits strong & high,
Was not the One for Love to pine & die,
But One who would by Beauty's Power be moved,
At least to fancy that he dearly loved.
In the next Village dwelt a gentle Maid,
With too much Cause, of Love & him afraid,
Handsome & Good & innocent & Mild,
Meek as a Saint & simple as a Child.
Her Richard loved, and she had loved Again,
But that her Prudence whispered her refrain.
She feared to give him Hope, tho' vex'd to give him Pain.
In his wild Days fair Susan was his Boast,
His Pride, the Subject of his Song, his Toast.
Her Name suppressed, he in his idle Lay
First wrote, then sang the praise of Jesse Gay: