The infant moralist

Charitable Louisa

Now Goody Brown and Widow Bond Live in a Cottage near the Pond, And so, Louisa, you Must now this little Basket take And put in it a Loaf, a Cake, A Pound of Sugar too.

Nay! do not frown, ’tis surely good That we the Agêd succour should? Your Shawl and Bonnet don, See, with you faithful Ponto comes, Perhaps a liking for the Crumbs Has urg’d him to go on.

So onward trips the little Maid, All smiling sweet, and unafraid Of Gipsies, Tramps and Cows. Then back she comes, while Goody stands And raising up her wither’d Hands Calls down her Prayers and Vows.

Credulity

What Consternation fills the Hall! Young Master Frank is miss’d; All Day for him they seek and call Nor through the Night desist.

Repeatedly had Frank been warned The Gipsies’ Camp to shun, For Truth and Cleanliness they scorned And left good Deeds undone.

Alas for Frank! the Gipsy Queen Had met him by the Stile, With Tales of Fortune she’d foreseen She did the Youth beguile.

“I’ll crown you King, and you shall ride In golden Coach,” said she, “You’ll ne’er repent if you decide To follow Gipsy Lee.”

The foolish boy went off to roam In search of Wealth and Fame, And all forgot were Friends and Home To his eternal Shame.

And now with limping Feet he toils Behind the Caravans, With Tinker’s Tools his Hand he soils And sells both Pots and Pans.

His Parents fond their Son with Tears Distractedly deplore: They sought him o’er the World for Years, But saw him nevermore.

The Consequences of Greed

Why, Edward! why this Cry of Pain? This Jacket all besmirched? Your strict Papa I’ll call again And have you soundly birched.

This pastry, that indulgent Cook Had filled for you with Jam, With hasty Greed, and envious Look You down your Throat did cram.

Now Gluttons! pray attend to me: I’ll send for Doctor Bell, A Child with Appetite too free He always doses well.

How strange a Sight in distant Lands, Where Wonders meet the Eye, To see the Works of Nature’s Hands From ev’ry Tree-top fly.

But Oh! with Shame and Sorrow both, I scarce can lisp the Tale, Its brutal Jest and hideous Oath My infant Cheek turn’d pale.

Alas! when all is bright and fair That Wickedness should lurk, Those sinful Words that filled the Air Were Man’s ignoble work.

Nurse screamed aloud, the Sailor ran, The Bird spoke yet more plain; Oh! how I hope the shameless Man Will not come back again.

How very careful we should be ’Mong those alone to move Who shunning, fly Profanity, And who our Hearts approve.

What! Lucy Elton’s rich Pelisse Your envious Thoughts inspire? And Fanny Jones disturbs your Peace When dress’d in gay Attire?

You foolish Child, did you but know The Way their Wealth was gained Your Cheeks with honest Shame would glow While youthful Life remained.

For Lucy’s Father robb’d a Bank, And Fanny’s Sire a Church: Far from such Wealth you Heav’n may thank Your Name can None besmirch.

Edward, and Charles, and Sister Fan In Joy their Accents raise, And William Fry, the Garden man, Puts Dobbin in the Chaise.

Papa assumes the Reins’ control, Mama her Shawl, and so Crack goes the Whip, the Wheels they roll, And now, away we go!

How happy we, with Parents kind And Clothes so clean and neat: Oh! may we always bear in Mind ’Twas Virtue earn’d this Treat.

Courage

Mervyn and Charles and little Ann Rose early from their Rest; Who should be First, as out they ran, They joyfully contest.

Mervyn was Senior by one Year To Charles, whose Summers six Exceeded Ann’s, it would appear, By Two, and Seven Weeks.

Among the Flowers that smell so sweet They pluck’d a Posy gay, To give Mama a pleasant Treat Upon her Natal Day.

But oh! from off a blooming Rose Ann gather’d with Delight, A cruel Wasp upon her Nose Did suddenly alight.

She loudly scream’d, and Mervyn seiz’d The Insect in his Clasp, Nor loosed his Hold ere it was squeez’d And crush’d within his Grasp.

Though painful Stings his Hand inflam’d He did not Cry nor Quail, And kind Mama with Pride exclaim’d When Charles told her the Tale.

Such Youths grow up as Soldiers brave, Or Sailors bold and free; And thus Britannia’s Flag shall wave Supreme on every Sea.

Heartless Folly

Pray, Richard, do you think it right To act as you did Tuesday Night And make of Age a Mock? The Admiral, whose Legs you tied Whilst he was sitting by my side, Is indisposed from Shock.

As he fell prone upon the Floor I saw you spying through the Door With pert and shameless Smile; His Daughters kind, who tend his Couch, With one accord do freely vouch They marked your Purpose vile.

E’en barbarous Turk or Cariboo, Or poor idolatrous Hindoo Before such Act would pause; What should you feel if Admiral Bligh Were taken from us to the Sky And you should be the Cause?

Oh! wretched Boy, Elisha’s Bears May even now be on the Stairs Your Punishment to give: For those the Aged who offend Are like to come to fearful End, Or else in Chains to live.

Politeness

What! do I apprehend aright, My Boy, my Herbert impolite? Oh say! oh say not so. I did not see you doff your Hat To Lady Charlotte Merton, that Is not genteel you know.

See how polite young Frankie hies To ope the Door for General Wyse, And take from him his Cane. In later times, when Frank’s extoll’d, Your Manner, deemed uncouth and bold, Will give you bitter Pain.

Sad is the Tale that I must tell, The Cause that struck her Dumb, For to the Shock which her befell She nearly did succumb.

Her Nephew Paul a little Mouse Within the Barn had caught, And in his Pocket to the House The tiny Creature brought.