Classic Poem

WHO WAS DROWNED IN RICHARD'S MILL-POND

Quoth Richard to Bob, " Let things go as they will,
" Of pleasure and fun I will still have my fill;
" In frolic and mirth I see nothing amiss,
" And, though I get tipsy, what harm is in this?

" For e'en Solomon says, and I vow he says truth,
" Rejoice, O young man, in the days of thy youth. "
" I'm glad, " answered Bob, " you're of Solomon's creed.
" But I beg, if you quote him, you'll please to proceed;

" For God (as the wise man continues to sing)
" Thy soul into judgment for all this will bring.
" Thus a man may get plung'd in a woful abyss,
" By choosing to say, Pray what harm is in this? "

" Come, come, " says gay Richard, " don't grudge me a cup,
" I'm resolv'd, while I'm able, I'll still keep it up;
" Let old greybeards deny that in frolic there's bliss,
" I'll game, love, and drink — and what harm is in this? "

Says Robert, " I grant if you live for to-day,
" You may game, love, and drink, and may frolic away;
" But then, my dear Dick, I again must contend,
" That the wise man has bid us — remember the end! "

Says Richard, " When sickness or peevish old age
" Shall advance, to dismiss me from life's merry stage;
" Repentance just then, boy, may not be amiss,
" But while young I'll be jolly — what harm is in this? "

They parted; and Richard his pastimes begun,
'Twas Richard the jovial, the soul of all fun;
Each dancing-bout, drinking-bout, Dick would attend,
And he sung and he swore, nor once, thought of the end .

Young Molly he courted, the pride of the plain,
He promis'd her marriage, but promis'd in vain;
She trusted his vows, but she soon was undone,
And when she lamented, he thought it good fun.

Thus scorn'd by her Richard, sad Molly ran wild,
And roam'd through the woods with her destitute child;
'Till Molly and Molly's poor baby were found,
One evening, in Richard's own mill-pond both drown'd.

Then his conscience grew troubled by night and by day,
But its clamour he drown'd in more drink and more play;
Still Robert exhorted, and, like a true friend,
He warn'd him, and pray'd him to think on the end!

Now disturb'd in his dreams, poor Molly each night
With her babe stood before him — how sad was the sight!
O how ghastly she look'd as she bade him attend,
And so awfully told him, " Remember the end . "

She talked of the woes and unquenchable fire
Which await the licentious, the drunkard, and liar:
How he ruin'd more maidens, she bade him beware;
Then she wept, and she groan'd, and she vanish'd in air.

Now beggar'd by gaming, distemper'd by drink,
Death stared in his face, yet he dared not to think;
Despairing of mercy, despising all truth,
He died of old age in the prime of his youth.

On his tomb-stone good Robert these verses engrav'd,
Which he hoped some gay fellow might read and be saved: —

THE EPITAPH .

Here lies a poor youth, who call'd drinking his bliss,
And was ruin'd by saying, What harm is in this?
Let each passer-by to his error attend,
And learn of poor Dick to remember the end!