THE GIN SHOP: OR, A PEEP INTO A PRISON. Look through the land from north to south And look from east to west, And see what is to Englishmen It is not want, though that is bad, Go where you will, throughout the realm, The prince of darkness never sent My name is Legion," it may say, Nor does the fiend alone deprive F We say the times are grievous hard, But, drunkards, to your wives and babes The drunkard's tax is self-impos'd, Like every other sin; The taxes altogether lay No weight so great as gin. The state compels no man to drink, 'Tis gin and gambling sink him down The kindest husband, chang'd by gin, The tend'rest heart that nature made In many a house the harmless babe. Come, neighbour, take a walk with me, In hundreds we shall meet. We shall not need to travel far- He will relieve with liberal hand But where long scores at gin-shops stand, Behold that shiv'ring female there, Look down those steps, and view below Those little wretches trembling there, Blest be those friends* to human kind Look through that prison's iron bars, The debtor and the felon too, Too oft you'll find were thither brought Yet heaven forbid I should confound Or name the debtor's lesser fault To prison dire misfortune oft The Philanthropic Society. See the pale manufact'rer there, He plied the loom with good success, Twice what the village lab'rer gains, No book-debts kept him from his cash How amply had his gains sufficed, See that apprentice, young in But hackney'd long in sin, years, What made him rob his master's till? Alas! 'twas love of gin. That serving-man-I knew him once, But, hark! what dismal sound was that? "Tis Saint Sepulchre's bell! It tolls, alas, for human guilt! Home malefactor's knell. U! woful sound! O! what could cause Such punishment and sin? Hark! hear his words. he owns the causeBad company and gin. |