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The Bankrupt; Or, Advice to the Insolvent.: A Poem, addressed to a friend, with other pieces — John Shaqi

The Bankrupt; Or, Advice to the Insolvent.: A Poem, addressed to a friend, with other piecesParkerson, James

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The Bankrupt; Or, Advice to the Insolvent.: A Poem, addressed to a friend, with other pieces

Name: The Bankrupt; Or, Advice to the Insolvent.: A Poem, addressed to a friend, with other pieces
Author: Parkerson, James

Parkerson, James

English poetry

Sweet consolation to assuage her heart;
   But cheerful went abroad your friends to see,
   While home she kept to brood on misery.
   One fault she did commit, I've heard you say:
   'Twas without leave quitting your house one day;
   But why she did so, was to each one plain:
   Who with such treatment could with you remain?
   Oft is the world deceived by artful mien:
   The real temper must at home be seen.
   Your's I've experienced, and that times not few,
   And it has forced me oft to flee from you.
   When pride of wealth becomes our only God,
   We deal with others with an iron rod.
   Had you, when I in bus'ness spent the day,
   Ta'en up some bills, or any debts then pay,
   I had done well; but you, to save your pelf,
   Left me to grapple with the world myself.
   For charities' sake, another way pursue,
   That, as I wish, I may speak well of you:
   To wretched son and wife your hand extend:
   Fulfil your promise: then you'll be my friend.
   Give us for once but wherewithal to toil,
   And we'll with industry improve the soil:
   Speak but your wish; I'll work on any plan,
   And prove myself a grateful, honest man.

                       [Picture: Decorative image]




LINES
ON
THE DEATH OF LORD NELSON.


                                * * * * *

   The fleets of haughty France and Spain
   No more will triumph on the main,
         Though Nelson is no more:
   Our hero's blood was dearly bought;
   To conquer them he bravely fought,
         And died in vict'ry's arms.

   'We'll avenge his death,' all seamen cry,
   'We'll fight, we'll conquer, or we'll die,
         And e'er their force deride:
   Our little ones shall lisp his name,
   And to acquire a Nelson's fame
         Shall ever be their pride.'

   Before cold death had closed his eyes,
   Cover'd with wounds, the hero cries,
         'Is victory our own?'
   'We've conquer'd,' cried the valiant crew.
   He smiling bade them all adieu,
         And died without a groan.

   Yet, ere he flew, he did enquire,
   How many ships were then on fire,
         And others that had struck:
   Well pleased the hero then was seen,
   When told the number was fifteen;
         For England was his care.

   Then with a bright benignant smile,
   Imploring blessings on our isle,
         Bade Collingwood farewell:
   To the Supreme, all good and just,
   His ashes we consign, in trust,
         They'll be revived in heav'n.




WRITTEN EXTEMPORE,
_On Receipt of a Letter_, _dated Sept._ 26, 1806.

Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.

The Bankrupt; Or, Advice to the Insolvent.: A Poem, addressed to a friend, with other pieces

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