4
When earnal feelings leap their proper bound,
And seek for pleasures in forbidden ground,
Offended, purer feelings flee away,
And leave the heart to wither and deeay.
Yet O how sweet is bread in secret eaten,
Until the fool is eaught and soundly beaten!
See Pritehard, that great murderer and thief—
Of bloody eriminals the very ehief,—
See how he steals the water from that well,
Sweet then to him, but bitter now as hell!
Would that the foolish girl had kept the key,
And saved herself from shame and misery!
When fleshly lusts their wicked work begin,
They pave the way for every kind of sin.
Adult’ry now, as in King David’s day,
For treachery and murder soon make way.
Of every murder Satan is the root;
But seldom do his branches bear such frnit
As that brought forth by Pritehard in these days.
How ripe the grapes this hellish braueh displays!
When one, enkindled by unholy rage,
Drives some poor fellow-mortal from life’s stage,
The deed draws down the vengeanee of the Sky,
Aud men condemn the murderer to die.
But when a wreteh, in secret hate and guile,
A foul, cold-blooded humau-croeodile!
Plots calmly on for months, from day to day,
To take his fellow-creature’s life away—
