And in its beginning, 'tis proper to state That, somehow, it chanced to be part of my fate To be born far remote from the populous town, And therefore, perhaps, I've a spice of the clown. Be this as it may, I acquired a taste For joys which, though simple, are equally chaste. In rural employments expended, my years Knew not the unnatural pleasures, nor fears, Which fall to the fortune of one who is bred Where men on unwholesome excitements are fed, And horrible vices their poisons distil; Where Peace, from her home on the verdure-crowned hill, The whispering grove, or the tapestried mead, With the bright troop of blessings that follow her lead, Comes seldom to gladden the wearisome hours, And raise to new vigor the languishing powers, But when I arrived at the age of discretion (I find I must hasten my rambling digression), With the popular error my mind was deluded That life is not life from the city excluded; So I followed the bent of my new inclination, With the liveliest hopes of improving my station. 'Twas easy deciding, and easy to do it; 'Tis easy, when thinking it over, to rue it. To Gotham the writer with joy was transported, Where people in lots, either mixed or assorted, Are found in abundance, 'kept always on hand,' Of every conceivable texture and brand; Exposed at the mart and awaiting their sale, Like the cotton that lies in the corpulent bale. A thousand of such may be bought in a trice-- Some dearly, and some at a moderate price. I mingled among them; I met them on 'Change, And elsewhere, and surely it isn't so strange If sometimes, contracting to buy or to sell, I _should_ be contracting their habits as well. But, though the temptations about me were rife, I kept from the perils of 'fash'nable life,' So that, at the time when my story begins, I never had placed in the list of my sins (Though often invited, declining each call) The crime of attending a party or ball. For, early in life, I was taught to believe That pleasures are pitfalls prepared to deceive By wily old Satan (who constantly tries To catch you by throwing his dust in your eyes, Thus, blinding his victim, securing his prize); That the dance is a maelstrom, where sinners are whirled Around a few times, and then suddenly hurled From daylight to darkness, from pleasure to woe, From terrestrial regions, to regions--below: But now was afforded a fine opportunity For taking some pleasure with perfect impunity;-- Ostensibly pleasing a worthy relation, But really seeking a gratification. I went, and, arriving at nine of the clock, I found that the guests were _beginning_ to flock. I could but conclude--though 'twas early, they said-- That when folks go to parties they should go--to bed.