GAMBLING by ROYALL TYLER

OF every vice pursued by those
In folly's by-paths rambling,
There's none so bad in its dread close,
As the vile vice of gambling.
It taints our morals, wastes our time
And fills us with vexation.
Destroys our wealth and youthful prime,
And mars our reputation.
Yet I'll aver, with my own eyes,
And I am not called stupid,
I caught sweet Fanny by surprise
A gambling with young Cupid!
Beneath the silent moon's soft beams
In fragrant flowery arbor,
That noted gambling house it seems,
Where players love to harbor.
The cunning god and simple fair,
Sat down to play at leisure
And staked such sums as might impair
A mighty monarch's treasure.
And first they played for locks of hair
And Fanny won the game.
Then cheeks and lips & skin so fair
Her luck was all the same.
Vex'd by the maid to be outdone
Then Cupid made a high bet,
Stak'd all his smiles -- a mighty sum
With dimples for a by-bet.
But still she won, & Cupid crost
Made dreadful sad grimaces,
Not only his own smiles he lost,
But all his mother's graces.
Proud Fanny's air and looks and eyes
Of victory gave token,
Her winnings seemed a noble prize,
A bank not to be broken.
Beware sweet girl and go no more
To midnight arbors rambling,
But think how soon you may deplore,
The dreadful end of gambling.
Sly Cupid has but played the knave,
And let you come off winner;
This is the way all gamblers have,
With every new beginner.
Some sharper soon will with you sport,
By Cupid's malice sent hence,
Win all your winnings and leave naught,
But sorrow and repentance.

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