by Isaac Watts (1674-1728)
Why should I join with those in Play,
In whom I've no delight,
Who curse and swear, but never pray,
Who call ill Names, and fight.
I hate to hear a wanton Song,
Their Words offend my ears:
I should not dare defile my Tongue
With Language such as theirs.
Away from Fools I'll turn my Eyes,
Nor with the Scoffers go;
I would be working with the Wise,
That wiser I may grow.
From one rude Boy that us'd to mock
Ten learn the wicked Jest;
One sickly Sheep infects the Flock,
And poysons all the rest.
Published by Robin
I'm a retired journalist who still has stories to tell. This seems to be a good place to tell them.
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