The New York Journal, And Daily Patriotic Register

POET'S CORNER.

ORDERS to my PORTER.

Thou faithful guardian of these happy walls,
Whose honest zeal protects thy master's gate,
If any stranger at this mansion calls,
I'll tell thee who shall enter, who shall wait.

If fortune, blind old dame, should chance to knock,
Or proud ambition court me to her aims,
"Shut, shut the door, good John," and turn the lock,
And hide thy master from their siren charms,

For in their dismal train, as black as night,
Come hideous care, and sullen melancholy,
And song, and joy, and laughter take their flight,
Nor leave one precious moment to dear Folly.

If at my door a beauteous boy be seen,
(His little feet have oft my threshold trod)
You'll know this offspring of th' Cyprian queen,
His air, without his bow, betrays the God.

His magick smiles admission always win,
Tho' oft deceived, I love the dear deluder:
Morn, noon, or night, be sure to let him in,
For welcome love is never an intruder.

Should sober wisdom hither deign to roam,
Nor let her in, nor drive her quite away;
Tell her, at present, "I am not at home,
But hope she'll visit me another day."