{"product_id":"2940148176794","title":"An Address to a Wealthy Libertine (Illustrated)","description":"Believe me, Sir; I do these lines impart\u003cbr\u003eWith every pang that can corrode the heart;\u003cbr\u003eBring to your mind a dismal scene late past,\u003cbr\u003eAnd let that guilty Amour be your last.\u003cbr\u003eThink of my friend that was of late so gay,\u003cbr\u003eBy your vile arts dishonour’d and away;\u003cbr\u003eFrom every joy that animates this life,\u003cbr\u003eThe tender mother and the happy wife.\u003cbr\u003eA husband’s frowns, a father’s burning tears,\u003cbr\u003eFor Stella’s folly much increase their cares.\u003cbr\u003eA brother mourns, in solitude forlorn,\u003cbr\u003eTo hear his Stella meet reproof and scorn:\u003cbr\u003eIn tears he cries, my sister’s late disgrace\u003cbr\u003eWill plant a stigma on the female race.\u003cbr\u003eThose friends so late that used to Stella stray,\u003cbr\u003eNow bend their courses far another way.\u003cbr\u003eShe mourns in privacy her honour flown,\u003cbr\u003eAnd sighs to find illicit scenes are known.\u003cbr\u003eThese sorrowing truths I feelingly renew,\u003cbr\u003eAnd know, oh guilty man! they rise from you.\u003cbr\u003eCan all your wealth lost honour ever gain?\u003cbr\u003eThat, Sir, is scorn’d—it is the impious stain\u003cbr\u003eYou’ve brought on Stella, to the end of life,\u003cbr\u003eAnd robs her all the comforts of a wife.\u003cbr\u003eAbandon’d man you must atone for all,\u003cbr\u003eEre life is o’er on God for mercy call.\u003cbr\u003ep. 4Your mind is harass’d by reflection’s gale,\u003cbr\u003eThat oft to you its bitterness exhale:\u003cbr\u003eTempted by folly every scene pursue,\u003cbr\u003eThat dissipation can expose to view.\u003cbr\u003eThe softer pleasures that enrich the mind,\u003cbr\u003eThat learning dictates, from you lag behind;\u003cbr\u003eIts cruel sport that bears a sov’reign sway,\u003cbr\u003eTo them and such like them you waste the day.\u003cbr\u003eKnow, Sir, that wealth an’t given to us here,\u003cbr\u003eTo bring to infamy the British fair.\u003cbr\u003eToo much, I fear, you wanton hours employ,\u003cbr\u003eThe needy woman daily to decoy.\u003cbr\u003eToo many wantons now disgrace this Isle,\u003cbr\u003eWhose bad example off the young beguile;\u003cbr\u003eI hope that plans to stop them will increase,\u003cbr\u003eAnd her that now is wretched rest in peace.\u003cbr\u003eYour gen’rous family will ever gain,\u003cbr\u003eAffection’s tribute while we life retain:\u003cbr\u003ePure is the vine, except a leaf or two,\u003cbr\u003eSoon they’ll decay and be no more in view.\u003cbr\u003eDisgrac’d, disown’d, to foreign lands they’ll fly,\u003cbr\u003eThe censur’d objects of the Deity.\u003cbr\u003eWealth cannot stop the torrent of reproach,\u003cbr\u003eTho’ screen’d from Britons by a gaudy coach;\u003cbr\u003eIts inmate oft tho’ clad in rich array,\u003cbr\u003eMeets hoots and hisses as he rides away;\u003cbr\u003eTill spleen, that canker of the human heart,\u003cbr\u003eMakes him oft wish he could from life depart.\u003cbr\u003ep. 5It is a scourge offended laws can’t give,\u003cbr\u003eThe worst of torments whilst its object live;\u003cbr\u003eSometimes it stops our vices as they rise,\u003cbr\u003eWhile chaster thoughts the wav’ing mind supplies.\u003cbr\u003eOft does a parent with paternal care,\u003cbr\u003eHis only Daughter with affection rear;\u003cbr\u003eSoon as the time arrives his cares to pay,\u003cbr\u003eA vile seducer takes his gem away;—\u003cbr\u003eWafts her to infamy of every kind,\u003cbr\u003eThen leaves the object with a tortur’d mind.\u003cbr\u003eStill does her heart with pure affection burn,\u003cbr\u003eWish to a father’s roof again to turn;—\u003cbr\u003eJust at that period—lucre tempts again,\u003cbr\u003eAnd the weak vessel totters on the main:\u003cbr\u003eShe reels, she sinks, from chaste affections view,\u003cbr\u003eTo taste the draught of bitterness anew.\u003cbr\u003eSome vile procuress with a demon’s skill,\u003cbr\u003eIn a short period gains her to her will;\u003cbr\u003eTill grown familiar to a harlot’s life,\u003cbr\u003eQuote inebriety to banish strife;\u003cbr\u003eBecomes familiar to a vicious plan,\u003cbr\u003eAdds to the charmers in the siren’s den;\u003cbr\u003eTo liquor fly to banish thoughts of home,\u003cbr\u003eAnd nightly forc’d for ways and means to roam.\u003cbr\u003eSweet health is banish’d and she finds too late,\u003cbr\u003eSome dismal bridewell soon must be her fate;\u003cbr\u003eAll means are fled, the staff of life to gain,\u003cbr\u003eTo bridewell hurried with remorse and pain.\u003cbr\u003ep. 6A pass is granted,—to her father sent,\u003cbr\u003eWhere she is foster’d from the element.\u003cbr\u003eA tender parent kiss the long lost child,\u003cbr\u003eAssures forgiveness tho’ by grief turn’d wild.\u003cbr\u003eSoon as the mind to calmer scenes invite,\u003cbr\u003eHe bless the hour that brought his lost to sight.\u003cbr\u003eA scene like this came lately to my ear,\u003cbr\u003eI know the parent and his worth revere.\u003cbr\u003eFrequent do parents cause the great distress,\u003cbr\u003eThat on their daughters unexpected press.\u003cbr\u003eThe mother drains her pockets very low,\u003cbr\u003eThat Miss may make a gaudy flippant show;\u003cbr\u003eTo country balls she often bends her way,\u003cbr\u003eAnd is allowed with cards and dice to play.\u003cbr\u003eView but the manners of the modern belle,\u003cbr\u003eAnd see if they don’t levity foretell:\u003cbr\u003eThe bosom oft appears too much in view,\u003cbr\u003eSweet modesty is forc’d to bid adieu:\u003cbr\u003eTo her chaste dictates she cannot attend,","brand":"Lost Leaf Publications","offers":[{"title":"Default Title","offer_id":47158218719472,"sku":"2940148176794","price":0.99,"currency_code":"USD","in_stock":true}],"thumbnail_url":"\/\/cdn.shopify.com\/s\/files\/1\/0737\/7593\/9824\/files\/2940148176794_p0.jpg?v=1763698887","url":"https:\/\/shop-qa.barnesandnoble.com\/products\/2940148176794","provider":"Barnes \u0026 Noble (DEV)","version":"1.0","type":"link"}