| Citation |
NYWJ.738.011
15 Oct 1738:32 (255)
SALEMS COMPLAINT. HYMN THE XVIII.
When I consider my disgrace,
And cast reflections on my case;
How many woe's I've undergone,
By great and small impos'd upon,
Dispis'd, abus'd, and made a sport,
In city, country, town and court,
I can't but vent my grief in sighs,
And ease my breast with streaming eyes.
O Salem! Football to the world,
How hast thou round the globe been hurld.
Nay been the common constant play,
Of the sedate, fantastic gay,
And; bladder like, now here then there,
Been bounc'd about then God knows where.
The winds delight the waters hate,
Earths vagabond and fires fate.
Belov'd by none and fear`d by all,
Th' unlucky prey of each I fall.
Yet Jove, be prais'd, there are no more,
Of elements but cruel four;
For were there twenty I believe,
At me each one would have a heave.
The rich man's scorn the wise mans fool,
The drunkards post, parents denial,
Good cheors goby, and physicks tryal.
The parson's atheist misers curse,
And infants terrour chosen by the nurse.
|