The Project Gutenberg eBook of Watt's Songs Against Evil
Title: Watt's Songs Against Evil
Author: Isaac Watts
Release date: September 26, 2011 [eBook #37542]
Most recently updated: January 8, 2021
Language: English
Credits: Produced by Larry B. Harrison, and the Archives and Special
Collections, University Libraries, Ball State University
and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at
https://www.pgdp.net
Watt's Songs
AGAINST EVIL
McLOUGHLIN BROS., Publishers,
NEW YORK
WATTS' DIVINE AND MORAL SONGS.
AGAINST PRIDE IN CLOTHES.
Our parents' shame, provoke our pride?
The art of dress did ne'er begin
Till Eve our mother learnt to sin.
Her robe of innocence was gone;
And yet her children vainly boast
In the sad marks of glory lost.
Our clothes, and call them rich and new,
When the poor sheep and silkworms wore
That very clothing long before!
Appear in gayer coats than I:
Let me be dress'd fine as I will,
Flies, worms, and flowers exceed me still.
Inward adornings of the mind;
Knowledge and virtue, truth and grace,
These are the robes of richest dress.
This is the raiment angels wear:
The Son of God, when here below,
Put on this blest apparel too.
Nor fears the rain, nor moth, nor mould:
It takes no spot, but still refines;
The more 'tis worn, the more it shines.
Then go to heaven, and wear it there:
God will approve it in his sight;
'Tis his own work, and his delight.
THE SLUGGARD.
'You have waked me too soon! I must slumber again!'
As the door on its hinges, so he on his bed
Turn his sides, and his shoulders, and his heavy head.
Thus he wastes half his days and his hours without number;
And when he gets up he sits folding his hands,
Or walks about sauntering, or trifling he stands.
The thorn, and the thistle grow broader and higher;
The clothes that hang on him are turning to rags;
And his money still wastes, till he starves or he begs.
He had took better care for improving his mind:
He told me his dreams, talk'd of eating and drinking;
But he scarce reads his Bible, and never loves thinking.
That man's but a picture of what I might be;
But thanks to my friends for their care in my breeding,
Who have taught me by times to love working and reading!'
THE ANT, OR EMMET.
We tread them to dust, and a troop of them dies,
Without our regard or concern:
Yet, as wise as we are, if we went to their school,
There's many a sluggard and many a fool
Some lessons of wisdom might learn.
But gather up corn in a sunshiny day,
And for winter they lay up their stores:
They manage their work in such regular forms,
One would think they foresaw all the frosts and the storms,
And so brought their food within doors.
If I take not due care for the things I shall want,
Nor provide against dangers in time:
When death or old age shall once stare in my face,
What a wretch shall I be in the end of my days,
If I trifle away all their prime!
Let me think what shall serve me when sickness shall come,
And pray that my sins be forgiven.
Let me read in good books, and believe, and obey;
That, when death turns me out of this cottage of clay,
I may dwell in a palace in heaven.
INNOCENT PLAY.
Run sporting about by the side of their dams,
With fleeces so clean and so white;
Or a nest of young doves in a large open cage
When they play all in love, without anger or rage,
How much may we learn from the sight!
Or dogs, we might play till it ended in blood:
So foul and so fierce are their natures;
But Thomas and William, and such pretty names,
Should be cleanly and harmless as doves or as lambs,
Those lovely sweet innocent creatures.
Should injure another in jesting or play,
For he's still in earnest that's hurt:
How rude are the boys that throw pebbles and mire;
There's none but a madman will fling about fire,
And tell you "'Tis all but in sport!"
AGAINST EVIL COMPANY.
In whom I've no delight;
Who curse and swear, but never pray;
Who call ill names, and fight?
Their words offend my ears:
I should not dare defile my tongue
With language such as theirs.
Nor with the scoffers go:
I would be walking with the wise,
That wiser I may grow.
They learn the wicked jest:
One sickly sheep infects the flock,
And poisons all the rest.
With sinful children here:
Then let me not be sent to hell,
Where none but sinners are.
THE THIEF.
Of his goods against his will?
Hands were made for honest labor,
Not to plunder, or to steal.
By such tricks to hope for gain:
All that's ever got by thieving
Turns to sorrow, shame, and pain.
Their sad profit to compute,
To what dismal state they brought us
When they stole forbidden fruit?
Practise little pilfering ways,
Till grown up a harden'd sinner,
Then the gallows ends his days.
Though we fancy none can spy:
When we take a thing forbidden,
God beholds it with his eye.
Lest I covet what's not mine;
Lest I steal what is not given,
Guard my heart and hands from sin.
THE ROSE.
The glory of April and May:
But the leaves are beginning to fade in an hour,
And they wither and die in a day.
Above all the flowers of the field!
When its leaves are all dead and fine colors are lost,
Still how sweet a perfume it will yield!
Though they bloom and look gay like the Rose;
But all our fond care to preserve them is vain,
Time kills them as fast as he goes.
Since both of them wither and fade;
But gain a good name by well doing my duty:
This will scent like a Rose when I'm dead.
ILLUMINATED TEXTS,
—FOR—
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MOTHER'S SERIES.
- Miss Vanity's Holiday.
- Passionate Child.
- Picture Fables.
- Little Sister.
- My Mother.
- Butterfly's Ball.
FATHER'S SERIES.
- Harry Brown.
- Valentine and Orson.
- Tom Tearabout.
- Two Brothers, or the Echo.
- Puss in Boots.
- Jemmy String.
*****