Last in my List, five untaught Lads appear; Their Father dead, Compassion sent them here, For still that rustic Infidel denied, To have their Names with solemn Rite applied: His, a lone House, by Dead-man’s Dyke-way stood; And his, a nightly Haunt, in Lonely-wood; Each Village Inn has heard the ruffian boast, That he believ’d ‘in neither God nor Ghost; ‘That when the sod upon the Sinner press’d, ‘He, like the Saint, had everlasting rest; ‘That never Priest believ’d his Doctrines true, } ‘But would, for profit, own himself a Jew, } ‘Or worship Wood and Stone, as honest Heathen do;} ‘That fools alone on future Worlds rely, ‘And all who die for Faith, deserve to die.’ These Maxims,--part th’ Attorney’s Clerk profess’d, His own transcendant genius found the rest. Our pious Matrons heard and much amaz’d, Gaz’d on the Man and trembled as they gaz’d; And now his Face explor’d and now his Feet, Man’s dreaded Foe, in this Bad Man, to meet: But him our Drunkards as their Champion rais’d, Their Bishop call’d, and as their Hero prais’d; Though most when sober, and the rest, when sick, Had little question, whence his Bishoprick. But he, triumphant Spirit! all things dar’d, He poach’d the Wood and on the Warren snar’d; ’Twas his, at Cards, each Novice to trepan, And call the Wants of Rogues the Rights of Man; Wild as the Winds, he let his Offspring rove, And deem’d the Marriage-Bond the Bane of Love. What Age and Sickness for a Man so bold, Had done, we know not;--none beheld him old: By night as business urg’d, he sought the Wood, The ditch was deep, the rain had caus’d a flood; The foot-bridge fail’d, he plung’d beneath the Deep, And slept, if truth were his, th’ eternal sleep. These have we nam’d; on Life’s rough Sea they sail, With many a prosperous, many an adverse gale! Where Passion soon, like powerful Winds, will rage, While wearied Prudence with their Strength engage; Then each, in aid, shall some Companion ask, For Help or Comfort in the tedious task; And what that Help--what Joys from Union flow, What Good or Ill, we next prepare to show; And row, meantime, our weary Bark ashore, As SPENCER his--but not with SPENCER’S OAR[7]. PART II. MARRIAGES. ARGUMENT.