Oh, sir! I pray, before you leave this life,
Extend forgiveness to my injured wife.
Why cast her from your presence? Say the cause?
Faithful she’s kept the strict connubial law’s.
The seven years I pass’d with her in love,
She e’er a faithful, virtuous wife did prove.
Was she too gay in dress to please your mind,
That you to her so long have been unkind?
Did she too much in company appear?
She scarcely did that twice or thrice a year.
I’m told you say her manners were too high:
’Twas you who view’d her with a scornful eye;
And that because she’d little store of wealth,
Which still was lessen’d to improve her health.
Say, should the want of wealth produce such strife,
When virtue only guided her through life?
I loved her: though her fortune was so scant,
Her fond endearment made me feel no want;
And spite of all that malice yet has done,
We are, though parted, still two hearts in one.
What was it then that canker’d thus your mind,
And made you to her many virtues blind?
Why did she ever sullen pride receive?
Contempt a female heart must ever grieve.
Th’unfeeling world, when adverse gales prevail,
Arraign your conduct, at your actions rail:
Should fortune smile, your company they’ll crave,
And swear you may their all command and have;
But should a change of fortune e’er take place,
Their friendship’s gone, and they’ll e’en shun your face:
So long as you a guinea free can spend,
Talk nonsense, and drink hard, you’ll be a friend:
They’ll say you’re clever, generous, and wise;
But, if you’re poor, the same will you despise.
Creatures like such too many have I found,
And sorry am so many still abound.
Fathers, like other men, will change with times,
And, when it nothing costs, will wink at crimes;
But if assistance you should ever crave,
Their answer is, ‘I wish you in the grave.’
My worthy sire will part with good advice,
But with his guineas is extremely nice;
For me cares little, but too much for’s store:
He only grieves because it is not more;
And once when he was bidding me adieu,
Said ’twas much cheaper to keep one than two,
Meaning to say he grudged to keep my wife:
This was the logic he had learn’d in life.
Had nature gifted him with callous heart,
Less tender feeling could he e’er impart?
But to return to female cause again:
Why should she from me sever’d still remain?
The only cause I have her not in view
Is the contempt she e’er received from you.
When at your house, she such did ever find:
’Twas that alone which hurt her peace of mind.
Not long ago she came yourself to see;
But did you ask her any thing of me?
In tears she told you I was in distress:
You with much anger did such words express:
‘’Tis half your fault,’ said you with scornful brow.
That charge is false, the world and I well know.
Nor did you to her any time impart
Sweet consolation to assuage her heart;
But cheerful went abroad your friends to see,
While home she kept to brood on misery.
One fault she did commit, I’ve heard you say:
’Twas without leave quitting your house one day;
But why she did so, was to each one plain:
Who with such treatment could with you remain?
Oft is the world deceived by artful mien:
The real temper must at home be seen.
Your’s I’ve experienced, and that times not few,
And it has forced me oft to flee from you.
When pride of wealth becomes our only God,
We deal with others with an iron rod.
Had you, when I in bus’ness spent the day,
Ta’en up some bills, or any debts then pay,
I had done well; but you, to save your pelf,
Left me to grapple with the world myself.
For charities’ sake, another way pursue,
That, as I wish, I may speak well of you:
To wretched son and wife your hand extend:
Fulfil your promise: then you’ll be my friend.
Give us for once but wherewithal to toil,
And we’ll with industry improve the soil:
Speak but your wish; I’ll work on any plan,
And prove myself a grateful, honest man.

Decorative image