ROBERT AND RICHARD ·

OR,

THE GHOST OF POOR MOLLY,

WHO WAS DROWNED IN RICHARD'S MILL-POND.

Tune-" Collins's Mulberry Tree."

QUOTH Richard to Bob, "Let things go as they will, "Of pleasure and fun I will still have my fill; "In frolic and mirth I see nothing amiss,

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And, though I get tipsy, what harm is in this?

"For e'en Solomon says, and I vow he says truth, Rejoice, O young man, in the days of thy youth." "I'm glad," answered Bob, "you're of Solomon's "creed,

"But I beg, if you quote him, you'll please to pro❝ceed;

"For God (as the wise man continues to sing)

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Thy soul into judgment for all this will bring. "Thus a man may get plung'd in a woful abyss, By choosing to say, Pray what harm is in this?"

"Come, come," says gay Richard, " don't grudge me "a cup,

up;

"I'm resolv'd, while I'm able, I'll still keep it "Let old greybeards deny that in frolic there's bliss, "I'll game, love, and drink-and what harm is in this?"

Says Robert, "I grant if you live for to-day,
"You may game, love, and drink, and may

66 away;

frolic

"But then, my dear Dick, I again must contend, "That the wise man has bid us remember the end!"

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Says Richard, "When sickness or peevish old age Shall advance, to dismiss me from life's merry 66 stage;

"Repentance just then, boy, may not be amiss, "But while young I'll be jolly-what harm is in "this?"

They parted; and Richard his pastimes begun, "Twas Richard the jovial, the soul of all fun;

Each dancing-bout, drinking-bout, Dick would attend,

And he sung and he swore, nor once thought of the end.

Young Molly he courted, the pride of the plain,
He promis'd her marriage, but promis'd in vain ;
She trusted his vows, but she soon was undone,
And when she lamented, he thought it good fun.

Thus scorn'd by her Richard, sad Molly ran wild, And roam'd through the woods with her destitute child;

'Till Molly and Molly's poor baby were found, One evening, in Richard's own mill- pond both drown'd.

Then his conscience grew troubled by night and by day,

But its clamour he drown'd in more drink and more

play;

Still Robert exhorted, and, like a true friend,

He warn'd him, and pray'd him to think on the end!

Now disturb'd in his dreams, poor Molly each night With her babe stood before him-how sad was the

sight!

O how ghastly she look'd as she bade him attend,
And so awfully told him, "Remember the end."

She talked of the woes and unquenchable fire Which await the licentious, the drunkard, and liar: How he ruin'd more maidens, she bade him beware; Then she wept, and she groan'd, and she vanish'd in air.

Now beggar'd by gaming, distemper'd by drink, Death stared in his face, yet he dar'd not to think; Despairing of mercy, despising all truth,

He died of old age in the prime of his youth.

On his tomb-stone, good Robert these verses engrav'd,

Which he hop'd some gay fellow might read and be saved:

THE EPITАРН.

Here lies a poor youth, who call'd drinking his bliss,

And was ruin'd by saying, What harm is in this? Let each passer-by to his error attend,

And learn of poor Dick to remember the end!

THE CARPENTER:

OR,

THE DANGER OF EVIL COMPANY.

THERE was a young west country man,
A carpenter by trade,

A skilful wheelwright too was he,
And few such waggons made.

No man a tighter barn could build,
Throughout his native town;
Through many a village round was he
The best of workmen known.

His father left him what he had,
In sooth it was enough,
His shining pewter, pots of brass,
And all his household stuff.

A little cottage too he had,

For ease and comfort plann'd;
And that he might not lack for ought,
An acre of good land.

A pleasant orchard too there was,
Before his cottage door :

Of cider and of corn likewise,
He had a little store.

Active and healthy, stout and young,
No business wanted he;

Now tell me, reader, if you can,

What man more blest could be?

To make his comfort quite complete,
He had a faithful wife;

Frugal, and neat, and good was she,
The blessing of his life.

Where is the lord, or where the 'squire,
Had greater cause to praise,
The goodness of that bounteous hand
Which blest his prosperous days?

Each night when he return'd from work,
His wife so meek and mild,
His little supper gladly dress'd,

While he caress'd his child.

One blooming babe was all he had,
His only darling dear,
The object of their equal love,
The solace of their care.

O what could ruin such a life,
And spoil so fair a lot?

O what could change so kind a heart,
And every virtue blot?

With grief the cause I must relate,
The dismal cause reveal;
"Twas EVIL COMPANY and DRINK,
The source of every ill.

A cooper came to live hard by,
Who did his fancy please;
Au idle rambling man was he,
Who oft had cross'd the seas.