David Jones

Shall I not bid to David Jones adieu--
He who had sail'd with Anson's hardy Crew;
He who had been about the world and found,
On his protested word, it was not round!
"'Tis all like England, every earthly Spot;
The Days are short and long, and cold and hot.
So they are here! Of all that I could trace
Are, just like us, a little darker race;
But striving all, by measures foul and fair,
To get our Nails, for Nails are many there.
They tipple grog; they love their dance and feasts,
And are taboo'd and terrified by priests.
Civil enough, when nothing thwarts their Will,
But very Devils when you use them ill;
Vain like ourselves and very fond of praise,
Proud of their lands, and their peculiar ways.
They have no money, but they change their Hams
And the whole Pig for * * * and yams;
There are some honest, as I may believe;
But all I saw have a delight to thieve.
So should we feel--at least 'tis my Belief--
If we had not our Law to hang a Thief.
They go to War like us, their Queens and Kings--
And, just like us, for mighty trivial things.
There is a difference in our Ways, 'tis true;
But Men are Men and Women Women too.
As far as I could see into their Hearts,
They act, as we do, well and ill their parts;
And we must think, the more of man we see,
That he is not the thing he ought to be;
But, go where'er you will, you'll ever find
Man is a selfish and a sinful kind."

So David thought, when he was stout and stern
And had his Pittance by his toil to earn.
On my return a pensioned man I found,
For a lost leg and many a grievous Wound.
Grateful he was and good, and loved to sing,
"Rule, Rule Brittania!" and "God save the King!"