Characters from Life; Or, Moral Hints. In Verse

Transcribed from the early 1800’s edition by David Price, email ccx074@pglaf.org. Many thanks to Norfolk and Norwich Millennium Library, UK, for kindly supplying the images from which this transcription was made.
or,
MORAL HINTS.
in verse .
Viz.
By J. PARKERSON, Jun.
Walker, Printer, near the Duke’s Palace.
Excess to mankind oft’times brings, Remorse with all its bitter stings; When cares oppress us in this life. At times we drink to banish strife; But when its feeble aid is o’er, We are more wretched then before. Oft poverty the man disgrace, And shows a drunkard in his face; Suppose he is a man of wealth, Excess of liquor injures health; Not only health but sad to name, Such characters the sober blame. The artful villain tries his skill, When Bacchus gains us to his will; At such unguarded times disclose, What makes our valued friends our foes; And many an injured wife declares That Bacchus cause her many tears. The husband oft to harlots stray, Whene’er he bears a sovereign’s sway;
And by his aid the thoughtless youth, Is led from virtues paths and truth: Oh gentle youth the harlot’s smile, Is given only to beguile; Their conversation so impure, That men of sense them can’t endure; Be chaste in every thought I pray, Sweet modesty will gain the day; Bacchus with her can not contend, She is to every youth a friend. Oft do I see a good man’s son, By harlots ruined and undone; A tipling farmer oft complain, Much is too low the price of grain; He must acknowledge oft he meet, His wealthy landlord in the street; On Saturdays his landlord roam, A few miles from his gaudy home; To this tho’ ancient pretty city, To see a play denoted pretty: Oft in the boxes folks call green, The tenant with his wife is seen; His spending money in that way, Good sense and learning then display; When farmers hurt themselves is clear, Is riding home and drunk appear.
Driving their horses at a rate, As plain foretell they staid too late; The gig turn’d o’er an arm is broke, Don’t this his landlord much provoke. Some neighbour who may want his farm, Take care the village to alarm; Informs his neighbours he can’t pay His tithe till sold both corn and hay; And to his landlord slyly state, That ruin’d soon must be his fate; His neighbour was in liquor found, Senseless and bleeding on the ground; On going home he drove so fast, As if each minute was his last; He’d broke his gig and spoilt his mare, This Sir is true I do declare; What I now state to others name, And they will tell you just the same; Sir cried the landlord in a pat, He knows not what he would be at; Quickly his mind I will alarm, For I will turn him out his farm; To me he’s tenant but at will, Soon soon he’ll be on Castle-Hill; I instant will the sot distress, And others will him sharply press;