TOM Careful had a son and heir,
Exact his shape, genteel his air,
Adoms was not half so fair;
But then, alas! his daughter Jane
Was but so-so; a little plain.
In mam’s apartment, as one day
The little romp and hoyden play,
Their faces in the glass they view’d,
Which then upon her toilette stood;
Where, as Narcissus vain, the boy
Beheld each rising charm with joy!
With partial eyes survey’d himself,
But for his sister, poor brown elf!
On her the self-enamour’d chit
Was very lavish of his wit.
She bore, alas! whate’er she could,
But ’twas too much for flesh and blood
What female ever had the grace
To pardon scandal on her face?
Disconsolate, away she flies,
And at her daddy’s feet she lies,
Sighs, sobs, and groans, calls to her aid,
And tears, that readily obey’d,
Then aggravates the vile offence,
Exerting all her eloquence:
The cause the’ indulgent father heard,
And culprit summon’d soon appear’d;
Some tokens of remorse he show’d,
And promis’d largely to be good.
As both the tender father prest
With equal ardour to his breast,
And smiling kiss’d, ” Let there be peace,”
Said he; ” Let broils and discord cease;
Each day, my children, thus employ
The faithful mirror: you, my boy,
Remember that no vice disgrace
The gift of Heav’n, that beauteous face:
And you, my girl, take special care
Your want of beauty to repair
By virtue, which alone is fair.”
—————
The End
And that’s the End of the Poem
© Poetry Monster, 2021.
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