The Grenadier Poem by William Hutton

The eye that reads this poem learns
How the great wheel of fortune turns.

No Muse by me shall e'er be sought;
I think their aid not worth a groat.
They may consent to lend a hand
When Bards can neither go nor stand.

But, as for me, I've blessings got,
Blessings beyond a poet's lot;
No noise of wheel, or brat sublime,
To squeak in prose, and murder rhyme;
A room as silent as the night;
A farthing candle burning bright,
And, if the blaze to dulness tends,
Can snuff it with my fingers ends;
A fire, which I suppose is in,
I think it rather warms my skin;
A pen, but of the bluntish sort;
A stand, although the ink be short;
A list of rhymes before me stuck,
To state in verse, should I have luck,
Th' adventures of a Grenadier,
In perfect truth, in language clear.

Lysander I shall call the name
Of him I've chosen for my theme;
A Gentleman--his birth we'll trace--
Cold Denmark was his native place.
His person, though not quite divine,
The ladies would call vastly fine;
Such as they might, in high degree,
With pleasure, but with danger, see.

'The world,' and none to cross his views,
'Being all before him, where to chuse,'
Upon the shining sword he ventur'd;
And in the Polish service enter'd.

A smile descended from the throne;
And regiment, which he call'd his own.

To keep her heart what lady can--
A Col'nel! and a handsome man!

Though beautiful, it is confess'd,
Yet more, now in reg'mentals dress'd;
For scarlet is, the ladies own,
The most enchanting colour known.
Perhaps he'd conquer, deck'd in charms,
More with his eyes than with his arms.
Whether a male dropp'd, we can't tell,
But, certainly, a lady fell.
Immensely were her riches grown;
And she commanded them alone.

When two each other seek to gain,
They very rarely seek in vain.
Loadstone and needle, by fix'd laws,
Each other in its vortex draws.
Her bait was wealth--'twas what he sought--
His beauty--by which she was caught.
And now the marriage rites come on,
Each side was pleas'd, for each had won.
What happiness from wedlock flows
A married couple only knows!
What blessings in their lap were hurl'd!
She brought two sons to tell the world.

'My dear!' they by each other sit--
Says she, 'you shall the service quit,
And we'll from Poland turn our face
To Denmark--'tis our native place.'
The pliant husband, at one word,
Forsook the military sword.
The art of killing he forgo,
And only wear a sword for show.

When child and gew-gaw first unite,
That union gives supreme delight;
But, when the child is satisfied,
The fav'rite gew-gaw's cast aside.
Union of bodies, 'tis confess'd,
Has never long a couple bless'd,
No marriage can give true delight
Except a pair of souls unite.

This, in our couple's case, we view;
As wedlock now had nothing new:
The novelty had died away,
And love was in a swift decay;
That love which they so much adore
Grew colder than it was before.
The fuel which kept up the fire
Was scarce, and let the flame expire.

When surly disappointments rise,
Ill-nature then each spirit tries.
To know is absolutely fit,
Which is to govern--which submit.
The trial made--the Fates befool him--
He must submit, and she must rule him.
This would most monstrous seem in woman,
Only the fashion makes it common.
Shew me the female, if you can,
Who power usurps to rule a man,
Who would not try that power to mend,
And rise a tyrant in the end.

Lysander, now turn'd out of door,
Her person must behold no more.
Her treasure great she kept alone,
For not a farthing was his own.
Her power increas'd--she did not fail
To throw her husband into jail;
Where wretchedness, affliction, lies;
Want, damp, and filth, before his eyes.
His life must end in one short day,
So watch'd the hour, and ran away.
Thus evils follow twenty fold,
When love has no substantial hold.

THE SECOND PART

The Reader may express some fear,
And cry, 'Pray where's the Grenadier?'
Sir, let not disappointment flow;
You've seen him many a line ago.

Perhaps, you'll ask me to reveal
What cogs there are in Fortune's wheel;
Urge me to tell you if, or not,
Our hero's to the bottom got.
Depriv'd of friends! imprison'd! poor!
Pray, is it needful to be lower?

'The world was all before him' twice,
But where to chuse he'd now no choice;
Like Cain must wander; and, what's worse,
Without a shilling in his purse.

When many a dismal scene he'd pass'd,
In London he arriv'd at last:
His clothes in rags--his visage thin;
Stomach and pocket nothing in:
But, that he might be better fed,
Enlisted in the Guards for bread.
Full six feet high--a person clear,
Instantly rank'd a Grenadier;
Was oft in should'ring arms beheld;
Often the centry-boxes fill'd.

His dismal tale, by Fame dispers'd,
Assail'd the ears of George the First--
'I'll see the man!'--Now pity presses
And, to relieve his sore distresses,
Three hundred pounds his case rewards.
Still he did duty in the Guards.

His lady, in her right, was found
Possess'd of forty thousand pound
Of South-Sea Stock--in trust was held;
Which not a doit to him must yield.
Thus Tantalus was hungry quite;
Yet food enough was plac'd in sight;
Rich dainties; but, though full in view,
Above his reach an inch or two.

To marriage it portends a curse
When ladies hold a private purse.

Now gracious Caroline was seen
To mount the throne a British Queen;
Who the two arts well understood,
Of shunning evil--doing good;
Made her great power, kind acts, and time,
Go hand in hand--I gain a rhyme.

His cruel state her mind depresses;
Was anxious to relieve distresses;
Summon'd the Lawyers of the Crown;
Making Lysander's case her own.

A bill was fil'd--the cause was heard--
Against trustees was made award--
'That to the hungry man shall come
The annual int'rest of that sum,
During his natural life; and then
Revert unto the heirs agen.'

In Fortune's wheel some elevated;
Some are to deep depression fated;
But our suprizing hero's found
To trace the Wheel of Fortune round.

Lysander now, superbly dress'd,
Again the gentleman profess'd
At balls and birth-nights he'd appear
The most conspicuous person there:
Shone bright, and that with variation,
In the St. James's constellation.
Cupid from him threw many a dart;
And now and then there fell a heart.

Thus he who had been Fortune's sport
Figur'd in George the Second's court.
In the gay world he made a show,
And Caroline trick'd out a beau.