MORAL.
Gentle Reader, attend To the voice of a friend!
And if ever you go to Herne Bay or Southend,
Or any gay wat'ring-place outside the Nore,
Don't walk out at eve on the lone sea-shore!
—Unless you're too saintly to care about Nick,
And are sure that your head is sufficiently thick!—
Learn not to be greedy!—and, when you've enough,
Don't be anxious your bags any tighter to stuff—
Recollect that good fortune too far you may push,
And, “a bird in the hand is worth two in the bush!”
Then turn not each thought to increasing your store,
Nor look always like “Oliver asking for more!”
Gourmandise is a vice—a sad failing, at least;—
So remember “Enough is as good as a feast!”
And don't set your heart on “stew'd,” “fried,” “boil'd,” or “roast,”
Nor on delicate “Woodcocks served up upon toast!”
Don't give people nicknames!—don't, even in fun,
Call any one “snuff-coloured son of a gun!”
Nor fancy, because a man nous seems to lack,
That, whenever you please, you can “give him the sack!”
Last of all, as you'd thrive, and still sleep in whole bones,
If you've any glass windows never throw stones!!!
