THE

REAL GENTLEMAN.

He's first a servant of his GOD,
Who rules all things in this abode;
True virtue is his recreation;
Contentment's still his occupation.
He GOD, his father, doth regard;
True happiness is his reward:
The Church he owns her as his mother;
Each saint he values as his brother.
Who'er's in need, he is his friend,
Nor acts from any selfish end:
He's loyal still and justice does
To all around him, friends or foes.
Devotion still his chaplain is,
And Chastity close with him stays;
Sobriety his cellars keeps,
And Temperance his victuals cooks.
His servants ev'ry one are sober;
They keep his house in perfect order:
Of ev'ry virtue they're made up;
They hate and shun the name of fop.

He through the world doth take his walk
To Heav'n, though he make little talk;
And all his bus'ness by the road
Is to obey the will of GOD.
His chiefest pleasure always lies
In distributing happiness;
On all around him, ev'ry where,
This is his chief concern and care.
The truth he loves and doth practice't,
And falsehood base does still detest;
And to conclude, with pen in hand,
He's both a Christian and a man.

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