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Copy of verses humbly presented to all my worthy masters and mistresses of the hamlet of Hammersmith, in the county of Middlesex

(26) Copy of verses humbly presented to all my worthy masters and mistresses of the hamlet of Hammersmith, in the county of Middlesex

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The Viſitation of the
Bleſſed Virgin.

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The Shepherds Worſhip
Chriſt.

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The Circumciſion.

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Herod's Cruelty.

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Chriſt tempted by Satan
in the Wilderneſs.

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The Marriage in Cana.

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The Lord's Supper.

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Peter denies Chriſt.

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Chriſt's Cruciſixion.

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The Reſurrection:

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The Birth of Chriſt.

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The Wife Mens Offering.

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Joſeph's Flight into
Egypt.

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Chriſt Baptized by John

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the Baptiſt.

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Chrift's Entrance into
Jeruſalem.

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Stephen Stoned.

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Chriſt's Aſcenſion.

A COPY of VERSES humbly preſented to all my worthy Maſters and Miſtreſſes

Of the Hamlet of Hammerſmith, in the County of Middleſex,
                        By JOHN MEREDITH, Beadle and Bellman.

            PROLOGUE.
ONCE more, my gen'rous Sirs, I do appear,
With my poor Tribute for another Year;
Hoping my Maſters candid Goodneſs will
Excuſe my Failings and my want of Skill ;
I'll do the beſt, Sir, that is in my Pow'r,
To make mv ſluggiſh Muſe aloſt to ſoar ;
All Dangers and Fatigues I will not mind,
If my poor Verſes your Acceptance find.
            On ST. MICHAEL.
ST. Michael, hail ! to glorious Thee 'twas given
To head th' angelic Legions in high Heaver ;
When Satan and his curſt rebellious Clan,
Form'd a moſt horrid execrable Plan ;
No leſs than the Almighty to dethrone,
To cruſh his Standard, and erect their own.
But lo ! beneath thy Loyalty they fell,
And inſtant tumbled headlong into Hell.
            On St. LUKE.
ST. Luke, he in his Goſpel does declare,
Our Saviour's Birth, his Works, and what they are.
His pious Life in holy Writ doth ſhew,
That ſuffered to ſave our Souls from Woe.
He, by his Death, the World did free from Strife,
And our Redemption bought with lots of Life.
What Love the Lord had for our finful Race,
Shews all Mankind were Objects of his Grace.
            On St. ANDREW.
THIS holy Saint had all Mens Good in view,
And did with Zeal all heav'nly Paths purſue :
He fear'd no ſad and terrifying Pain;
All cruel Racks did piouſly diſdain :
The unrepenting Sinners he would tell,
The Way to Bliſs, and diſmal Woes of Hell :
He ſtrove the wicked daring Souls to ſave ;
And preach'd, there's no Repentance in the Grave.
            On ST. THOMAS,
SAINT Thomas he did ſtrive alone to ſtand,
Without th' Aſſiſtance of God's, holy Hand :
And, tho' ſo very juſt, no Credit gave,
When told how Chriſt was ris'n from the Grave :
But when his Faith was ſtrengthen'd, he with Tears,
Would expiate his Crime by ſervent Pray'rs :
The ſacred Doctrine to the laſt would teach,
And to the harden'd Sinners loudly preach.
            On CHRISTMAS EVE.
MY pretty Maids 'tis now fit Time to riſe,
To get Things ready, and to form your Pies :
Spit then your Sir-loins, and your dainty Fare ;
See that in cleanly Order you prepare ;
And while your Fingers do thus nimbly work,
Be not hard hearted like a furious Turk ;
But of your Goodneſs, and your rich Repaſt,
Let your poor honeſt Bellman have a Taſte.
            On CHRISTMAS DAY.
GREAT was the Love that God this Day did ſhow,
To condeſcend to ſend his Son below :
Nor was it leſs in Jeſus Chriſt to come
To ſave us from the ſad impending Doom :
Upon this Day he Human Fleſh did take,
And all Infirmities, for our ſake :
Afflictions great he ſuffer'd here on Earth,
And in much Sorrow yiedled up his Breath.
Judas Betrays Chriſt.
            On ST. STEPHEN.
TOO great's the Task for Mortals e'er to paint,
The mighty Suff'rings of this holy Saint :
But as Hiſtory doth record thy Name,
O glorious Saint ! The Troubles ſpeak thy Fame ;
Who with great Zeal, did their ſierce Rage defy,
And in his Saviour's Cauſe id firmly die :
Expiring, then to God he made his Moans,
And bleſs'd his Murd'rers in his dying Groans.
            On ST. JOHN.
THIS pious Saint was of a Temper mild,
And juſtly the belov'd Diſciple ſtil'd ;
His Mind no Fear nor cruel Dangers knew,
His God was with him, and to him he flew :
Yet after all, and painful Penance paſt,
He did to Patmos Iſle retire at laſt :
For all in vain they ſtrove to take his Breath,
But when retir'd, he dy'd a nat'ral Death.
            On INNOCENTS DAY.
HEROD decreed the Lord of Life to ſlay,
But holy Mary bore the Babe away.
Whilſt the Blood-ſucking Tyran did purſue ;
On Inſant Males his Cruelty renew.
Nothing could hinder the poor Inſant's Fate,
Nor the dread Horrors of this Day relate,
For he had doom'd it, and their Babes muſt bleed ;
Their Parents Pray'rs nor Tears could not ſucceed.
            On NEW-YEAR'S DAY.
THE New-Year's come again, and Heaven knows,
How very few may live to ſee it cloſe :
Life is precarious, and not in our Power,
To ſave us one whole Year, no, not an Hour.
If then we have our former Years miſpent,
To mend in this, let it be ou Intent ;
And live ſo well as we may Death defy,
And fear no Terrors when we come to die.
            On TWELFTH DAY.
WHAT Pleaſure will this merry Night afford,
When Sue may be a Queen, and John a Lord ;
Ambition does in ev'ry Boſom reign,
And Fortune only can the Cafe explain ;
For each by drawing does his Title take,
And with that Title claims a Piece of Cake ;
Then to his Friend each drinks a chearful Glaſs,
And ſo in harmleſs Mirth the Evening paſs.
            On the KING.
HAIL mighty George ! juſt Guardian of our State,
May greater Bleſſings ſtil upon you wait :
With your Indulgence Britons happy be,
And feel the Sweets of gentle Liberty :
Whilſt you with Softneſs do our Laws maintain,
And guide with Mildneſs you anſpicious Reign :
Then may you ſtill your Subjects Good protect,
And we your Royal Favours 'er neglect.
            On the QUEEN.
YE Britiſh Ladies view your Royal Queen,
The Pattern of true Virtue there is ſeen ;
All Joy and Happineſs muſt or you wait,
If her example you will imit :
She's a ſure Pattern for each loving Wife
To follow, who would lead a happy Life :
Great Britain will a happy Proſpect ſee,
Bleſt in her amiable Progeny.
            To my MASTERS.
MOST worthy Sirs, for ſuch good Men as you,
What is't your honeſt Bellman wou'd not do :
What Dangers or what Inſults can he fear,
Who makes your Safety his peculiar Care ;
The Streets from Tumults he'll in Quiet keep,
That no rude Noiſe diſturb you while you ſleep ;
That no vile Robbers may the Streets infeſt ;
Nor nothing happen fur to break your Reſt
            To my MISTRESSES.
MOST lovely Miſtreſſes, your Virtue ſhines,
And makes your Worth out vie the Golden Mines.
What are the Gems which the whole World has ſhar'd,
When to a virtuous Woman they're compar'd ?
My Maſters value you above their All ;
You their Delight, their Comfort you they call,
Heav'n grant ye long may live in mutual Love,
And, after Death, re-meet in Realms above.
            To the YOUNG MEN.
CONSIDER Youth, Experience makes you wife,
And do not modeſt Council e'er diſpiſe.
With ſolid Thoughts fill your weak youthful Brain,
And ſtrive that you may better Thoughts contain,
A Head grown old, is full of Care we find,
When Youth's too much to Lazineſs inclined.
Be careful and induſt'rious in your Youth,
And walk the Paths of Honour and of Truth.
            To the MAIDS.
WHILE Virtue leads you in the modeſt Way,
Nothing appears more drlicate and gay :
But if my Council you ſhou'd once deride,
What would, my pretty Maidens, you betide ?
Your Honour loſt, what would the young Men fay ?
But laugh and ſcoff when you have gone aſtray.
Then pray conſider and take good Advice,
And ere too late pray ſtudy to be wife.
            On CRISPIN.
YE Sons of Criſpin, let your Tools be vain,
Nor dare with Work litis jovial Day profane.
If he from Royalty with Joy could fall,
And for a Sceptre uſe the glorious Awl ;
For ought I think at leaft you'll grateful be,
And one Day in the Year from Work be free,
So throw your Tools all by, and never ſtrive,
For if you work this Day 'twill never thrive.
         The BELLMAN'S PRAYER.
ETERNAL and Great Ruler of all Things,
Who ſways the Hearts of Emperors and Kings,
On this thy Church pour heav'nly Bleſſings down ;
Proſper our King with Honour and Renown ;
May all the World view Albion in ſucceſs,
And Europe envy Britain's Happineſs.
Bleſs all my dear and worthy Maſters here,
And after Death may they bright Saints appear.
            EPILOGUE.
IF after all the Labour of the Mind,
This ſhould no Favour or Reception find,
'Twould ruin utterly the Bellman's Muſe,
And I no more this Way of Rhyming uſe.
But by your Bounty hitherto I find
That I no cauſe ot Fear have left behind ;
And as your Favours daily do increaſe,
May God reſtore you treble Wealth and Peace.

LONDON: Printed by S. BAYLEY, (No. 120,) PETTICOAT LANE, near WHITECHAPEL ; for the Year 1793 ;
Where Catalogues, Hand Bills, Club Orders, Tradeſmen's Cards and Shop Bills, &c. are neatly printed, at the moſt reaſonable Rates, and on the ſhorteſf Notice.

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