PARODY of the 1st. PSALM

Curst is the man, who knows the place, Where strumpets love to meet; Who never heeds the chaste one's ways, Nor sees her modest seat. Who in the statutes of the wise. Has never placed delight; Who drinks and sleeps away the day, Gambles and whores all night, He shall be like, the Lord knows what, And when his joys are past, Safe from the bliss of happier realms. Shall go to hell at last. Lean is his cheek, and sore his nose, With lust's disorder dire, The gout has stiffened all his limbs, His eyes are red as fire. Not so the wise not so the chaste, Who wisdom's dictates hear. To them are far superior joys; Superior raptures far, The fair one's modest look sincere; Tbe warm embrace of love; But nobler sweets of marriage bands, Let bands of Hymen prove.