The New Hampshire Gazette And General Advertiser

Parnassian Spring.

The DISTRESSED CITIZEN.

Ye who delight in joys the city yields,
And sight the peaceful groves and
verdant fields,
Go—if the peopled town engross your care,
Go—and enquire if happiness is there!
Enter yon dome, the unhappy man behold,
(The effect of dire intemperance) grown old,
E'er forty winters o'er his head has roll'd.
His useless feet and trembling hands disclose,
With groans and curses whence his ills arose.
The hapless wife of the despairing man,
View, and refrain from pity if you can!
O hard of heart! can you with tearless eye
See that once beauteous form in ruin lie?
Happy in this, and blest in it alone,
No children's woes are added to her own:
Only two infants on her knees were bred,
Who soon were numbered with the silent dead.
Oft on a Sunday would the Buck repair
To neighbouring villages and revel there;
With mirth unseemly and indecent song,
And insolence amaze the rural throng;
At ev'ry feast he join'd the glutton train,
Best sung the drunken catch & lewdest strain;
Loit'ring thro' day, collecting various news,
Engag'd at night in taverns or in stews:
Or at the Theatre his ev'nings pass,
And to her home gallant th' immodest lass;
The watchman beat, & durance vile to shun,
Bribe the peace officer to let him run.
Oft may you hear him when the gout attacks,
And his emaciated carcass racks,
Alternate swear and pray, and wish to have
Annihilation in the silent grave:
How vain the wish! the Bettering-House
Supplies
A residence for years before he dies.
Ah, me! exclaims the wretch unto his wife,
Why drag I thus the load of ling'ring life?
Depriv'd of health, ah what remains for me
But sad continuance in misery!
Doom'd my belov'd companions to out-live,
And ev'ry pleasure that the town can give,
Whilst yet some strength remain'd how happy they
To fall in early youth to death a prey.
Accurs'd with ev'ry ill, without a friend,
I unlamented to the grave descend;
In Potters-field, my hapless frame shall rot,
And e'en my memory be soon forgot,
Unless some writer should extend its date,
To warn the city youth to shun my fate.
As country swains aloft suspend the crow
To fright its fellows from the corn below.
Health, Peace and Hope fair Virtue's
smiling train
Were absent far—nor heard him thus
complain.

A VILLAGER.