720 ANNUAL REGISTER, 1810. 



" Good Heav'n, revoke ! remember, if the Set 

 , " Be lost, in honour you should pay the Debt." 



" There, there's your Money ; but while I have life, 

 " I'll never more sit down with Man and Wife ; 

 " They snap and snarl, indeed, but in the heat 

 " Of all their Spleen, their Understandings meet ; 

 " They are Free-Masons, and have many a Sign, 

 " That we, poor devils ! never can divine : 

 " May it be told, do ye divide the Amount, 

 " Or goes it all to Family Account ?" 



THE ALMS-HOUSE. 



[^From the Same.^ 



Be it agreed — the Poor who hither come, 

 Partake of Plenty, seldom found at home ; 

 That airy Rooms, and decent Beds are meant, 

 To give the Poor by day, by night, Content; 

 That none are frighten'd, once admitted here, 

 By the stern looks of lordly Overseer : 

 Grant that the Guardians of the Place attend. 

 And ready ear to each Petition lend ; 

 That they desire the grieving poor to show 

 What ills they feel, what partial Acts they know, 

 Not without promise, nay, desire, to heal 

 Each Wrong they suflFer, and each Woe they feel. 



Alas ! their Sorrows in their Bosoms dwell. 

 They've much to suffer, but have nought to tell ; 

 They have no Evil in the Place to state, 

 And dare not say, it is the House they hate : 

 They own there's granted all such Place can give, 

 But live repining, for 'tis there they live. 



Grandsires are there, who now no more must see, 

 No more must nurse upon the trembling knee 

 The lost, lov'd Daughter's infant Progeny: 

 Like Death's dread Mansion, this allows not place 

 For joyful meetings of a kindred Race. 



Is not the Matron there, to whom the Son 

 Was wont at each declining day to run ; 

 He (when his toil was over) gave delight, 

 By lifting up the latch, and one " Good Night ?" 

 Yes, she is here, but nightly to her door 

 The Son, still labouring, can return no more. 



