Jones' address to a sovereign

JONES’ ADDRESS
TO A
SOVEREIGN.

Lines from a Poem now in the press, by a poor man of the names of Jones, a native of Wales, who, after having been for ten or twelve years in the navy, is now employed in a cotton factory in Manchester. A few years ago a copy of his poem, called “The Cotton Mill,” was given to Mr. Buchanan, of Catrine, who sent the author a present of a sovereign. This gift seems to have arrived very opportunely, if we may judge from the lines it occasioned. Addressing the sovereign, the Poet says——

“Hail! joy-restorer, of Peruvian ore!
Thee, might the victims of distress adore,
Not Sol, when rising to a restless swain,
Nor stars to sailors on the mighty main,
Are “half so welcome as thy sight to me,
What have I suffered for the want of thee?
For want of thee my clothes have worn in holes,
For want of thee my shoes have wanted soles;
For want of thee (while beasts and fowls were fed),
I’ve dropp’d and fainted for the loss of bread;
For want of thee the haughty sons of pride
Have turn’d their worthless empty heads aside;
For want of thee I’ve oft endur’d the scorn
Of nymphs, and frowns of dire oppressors borne;
For want of thee I’ve roam’d the country through,
And more of sorrow than contentment knew;
For want of thee my jokes have giv’n offence.
For want of thee I’ve wanted common sense;
For want of thee when wint’ry terrors spread,
I’ve wanted shelter for my aching head;
For want of thee pretended friends have thrown
The mask aside, and what they were, have shown,
For want of thee in company have I stood,
Mute as a statue, or a post of wood;
When others spoke, or sung with mirth and glee,
I’ve wanted utterance for the want of thee.”

W. Macarter, Printer, Ayr.