The poetical works of John Nicholson ... Carefully edited from the original editions, with additional notes and a sketch of his life and writings. By W. G. Hird |
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 | The poetical works of John Nicholson |  |
Ye rustic plunderers, who sport by night,
And fearlessly invade another's right,
Cold winds and storms your frame will soon impair,
Your robust limbs will soon in sickness wear;
Though firm your sinews as the hardest steel,
Your constitution must your follies feel:
The sport, the bowl, the glass, the cheering quart,
Soon, soon will fail to animate the heart.
Ye who purloin by night the harmless game,
Ere youth is past, old age shall rack your frame.
No days well spent can you look back to view,
At last convinced this axiom is true,—
“If injured lords no punishment prepared,
“Drinking and poaching bring their own reward.”
And fearlessly invade another's right,
Cold winds and storms your frame will soon impair,
Your robust limbs will soon in sickness wear;
Though firm your sinews as the hardest steel,
Your constitution must your follies feel:
The sport, the bowl, the glass, the cheering quart,
Soon, soon will fail to animate the heart.
Ye who purloin by night the harmless game,
Ere youth is past, old age shall rack your frame.
No days well spent can you look back to view,
At last convinced this axiom is true,—
“If injured lords no punishment prepared,
“Drinking and poaching bring their own reward.”
| The poetical works of John Nicholson | |