The poor man has his club; he comes and spends His hoarded pittance with his chosen friends; 270 Nor this alone--a monthly dole he pays, To be assisted when his health decays; Some part his prudence, from the day's supply, For cares and troubles in his age, lays by; The printed rules he guards with painted frame, And shows his children where to read his name: Those simple words his honest nature move, That bond of union tied by laws of love. This is his pride, it gives to his employ New value, to his home another joy; 280 While a religious hope its balm applies For all his fate inflicts and all his state denies. Much would it please you, sometimes to explore The peaceful dwellings of our borough poor; To view a sailor just return'd from sea; His wife beside; a child on either knee, And others crowding near, that none may lose The smallest portion of the welcome news: What dangers pass'd, "when seas ran mountains high, When tempests raved, and horrors veil'd the sky; 290 When prudence fail'd, when courage grew dismay'd When the strong fainted, and the wicked pray'd,-- Then in the yawning gulf far down we drove, And gazed upon the billowy mount above; Till up that mountain, swinging with the gale, We view'd the horrors of the watery vale." The trembling children look with stedfast eyes, And panting, sob involuntary sighs: Soft sleep awhile his torpid touch delays, And all is joy and piety and praise. 300 * * * * *