The rules, orders and regulations, of the Magdalen House, for the reception of penitent prostitutes.

  • Magdalen Hospital (London, England)
Date:
1759
Catalogue details

Licence: Public Domain Mark

Credit: The rules, orders and regulations, of the Magdalen House, for the reception of penitent prostitutes. Source: Wellcome Collection.

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    [23 8. Flow will you curfe your wanton eyes, Curfe the lewd partners of your fhame, When death, with horrible furprife. Shews you the pit of quenchlefs flame 9- Flee, flnners, flee th’ unlawful bed. Left vengeance fend you down to dwell In the dark regions of the dead. To feed the fierceft Are in hell. The UNKNOWN WORLD. HARK, my gay friend, that .folemn toll Speaks the departure of a foul: ^Tis gone, that’s -all we know—not where. Or how th’ unbody’d foul does fare. In that myfterious world none knows, , But Qod alone, to whom it goes ; To whom departed fouls return, To take their doom, to fmiie or mourn. Oh ! by what glimm’ring light we view The unknown world we’re haft’ning to ! God has lock’d up the myftic page, And curtain’d darknefs round the ftage ! Wife heav’n, to render fearch perplext,- Has drawm ’twixt this world and the next A dark impenetrable fcreerv All behind which is yet unfeen! We talk of heav’n, we talk of hell: But what they mean, no tongue can tell ! ' Heav’n is the realm where angels are, And hell the chaos of defpair ! But what thefe awful words imply, None of us know before we die ! Whether we will or no, we muft Take the fucceeding world on truft. This hour perhaps our friend is well; Death—ftruck the next, he cries—farewell !, I die!—and^then for ought we fee Ceafes at once to breathe and be. Thus launch'd from life’s ambiguous fhare, Ingulph'd in death, appears no more. Then undirected to repair To diftant worlds we know not where.: Swift flies the foul; perhaps ’tis gene A thoufand leagues beyond the fun , ] « Or twice ten thoufand more thrice told, Ere the forfaken clay is cold ! And yet who knows, if friends we lov’d, Tho’ dead, may be fo far remov’d ? Only this vail of fiefh between, Perhaps they watch us, tho’ unfeen. W hilft we, their lofs lamenting, fay, They’re out of hearing, far away ; Guardians to us, perhaps they’re near, Conceal'd in vehicles of air. And yet no notices they give, Nor tell us where, nor how they live ; Tho’ confcious, whilft with us below. How much themfelves defir’d to know. As if bound up by folemn fate. To keep this fecret of their ftate, To tell their joys or pains to none, That man might live by faith alone. Well let my fov’reign if he pleafe. Lock up his marvellous decrees ; Why fhould Iwifhhim to reveal What he thinks proper to conceal r It is enough that I believe, Heav’n’s brighter than I can conceive : And he, that makes it all his care To ferve God here, Fhall fee him there ! But oh! what worlds fhall I furvey. The moment that I leave this clay ? How fudden the furprife, how new ! Let it, my God, be happy too! , On the LASTJUDGMENT By the Ear! of Rofcomon , i. 'T FI E day of wrath, that dreadf*ul day I Shall the whole world in afhes lay, As David and the Sybils fay. 2. What horror will invade the mind, When the ftriCl Judge who would be kind,' Shall have few venial faults to find ? r% 3» The laft loud trumpets wond’rous found Shall through the rending tombs’rebound, And wake the nations under ground. T ■ Nature and death (hah, with furprife. Behold the pale offender rife, And view the Judge with confcious eyes. Then