And are just what they were in the days of George Fox. They talked in a style that was wholly their own; They shunned the vain world, and were mostly alone, One talked in the Nay, and one talked in the Yea, And of light in their lanthorns that no one could see: They hated the crowd, and they hated the play, And hoped the vain actors would soon run away;-- No follies like that would the preachers allow; And Tabitha said thee, and Rebecca said thou. Here was Dullman, the broker, who looked as demure As if a false key had unlocked the shop door: He seemed to enjoy not a moment of rest, So unhappy to be--far away from his chest. He was all on the fidgets to be with his gold: Both honour and conscience he bartered, or sold-- The devil himself--excuse me, I pray-- Old Satan--oh no--take it some other way-- The God of this world had him fast by a chain, And there let us leave him--and let him remain.-- Here was Samuel, the Deacon, who read a large book, Though few but himself on its pages would look; Would you know what it was?--an abridgement of Flavell,[A] With Bunyan's whole war between soul and the devil;-- It seemed very old, and the worse for the wear, And might last the next century, handled with care; But if fashions and folly should not have a fall, I presume it will hardly be handled at all.-- Here was Nimrod the soldier--he wore a long sword, And, of course, all the ladies his courage adored; Two fringed epaulettes on his shoulders displayed, Discovered the rank of this son of the blade. "O la!" cried Miss Kitty, "how bold he must be! Papa! we must beg him to join us at tea! How much like a hero he looketh--good me! Full many a battle, no doubt, he has stood, And waded shoe deep through a mill pond of mud! What heads have been sliced from the place they possessed By the sword at his side!--all, I hope, for the best!" Then the soldier went out, to refresh at the inn-- Perhaps he did not--if he did it's no sin-- He made his congee, and he bowed to us all, And said he was going to Liberty Hall: 'Tis certain he went, but certainly where I cannot inform, and the devil may care. But now to proceed, in describing in rhyme The folks that came hither to pass away time: There were more that had heads rather shallow than strong, And more than had money to bear them out long. In short, there were many more ladies than gents, And the latter complained of the heavy expense! And some I could see, with their splendour and show, That their credit was bad, and their pockets were low; Many females were gadding, I saw with concern, Who had better been knitting, or weaving their yarn. And many went into Passaick to lave Whose hides were, indeed, a disgrace to the wave; Who should have been home at their houses and farms, Not here to be dabbling, to shew us their charms: It would have been better to wash their own walls