Classic Poem

Now ponder well, Miss C LAYTON dear,
And read your Bible book;
Lest you one day should rue the time
That you your promise broke.

'Twas on that bed where you have lain
Full many a restless night,
That you did say, nay swear it too — —
But you've forgot it quite.

Your tender mother eke also,
Did ratify the same;
And strok'd me o'er the face, and vow'd —
Much more than I will name.

But what are women's oaths, and vows,
With which we make such pother?
Ah, trust us not, ye faithful swains!
Who cannot trust each other.

The swain may vow eternal love,
And yet that vow revoke;
For lovers vows alas! are made
On purpose to be broke.

The courtier breaks his word, 'tis true,
Or keeps it but in part,
But you, whene'er you break your word,
Perhaps may break a heart.

The chemist says he'll turn to gold
Each thing he lights upon;
And so he will, whene'er he finds
The philosophic stone.

The lawyer says he'll get your cause,
Then loses cause, and cost;
But there's a maxim in the law,
Says, Fees must not be lost .

Allegiance firm to gracious King
Swear parsons one and all:
Pity! Christ's vicars, or of Bray ,
Should ever swear at all.

Physicians too can promise fair,
In figures and in tropes — —
Then let your faith and fees be great,
And while there's life, there's hopes.

But when all confidence is lost,
Small comfort hopes afford;
For whom hereafter can I trust,
Now You have broke your Word?