King Dionysius and Squire Damocles: a new song on an old story. Proper to be sung at all feasts and merry-makings.

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KING DIONYSIUS AND SQUIRE DAMOCLES; A New Song on an Old Story. Proper to be sung at all Feasts and Merry-makings.

THERE was a heathen man, sir,

Belonging to a King;

And still it was his plan, sir,

To covet every thing.

And if you don't believe me,

I'll name him if you please,

For let me not deceive ye,

'Twas one Squire Damocles.

He thought that jolly living

Must every joy afford,

And knew of no misgiving,

While round the festive board.

He wanted to be great, sir,

And fed on fare delicious,

And have his feasts in state, sir,

Just like King Dionysius.

The King, to cure his longing,

Prepar'd a feast so fine,

That all the Court were thronging

To see the Courtier dine.

And there to tempt his eye, sir,

Was fish, and flesh, and fowl,

And when he was a-dry, sir,

He had a brimming bowl.

Nor did the King forbid him

From drinking all he could;

The Monarch never chid him,

But fill'd him with his food.

O then, to see the pleasure

Squire Damocles exprest!

'Twas joy beyond all measure;

Was ever man so blest?

With greedy eyes the Squire

Devour'd each costly dainty;

You'd think he did aspire

To eat as much as twenty.

But just as he prepar'd, sir,

Of bliss to take his swing;

O, how the man was scar'd, sir!

By this so cruel King!

When he to eat intended,

Lo! just above his head,

He spied a sword suspended

All by a single thread.

How did it change the feasting

To wormwood and to gall,

To think, while he was tasting,

The pointed sword might fall.

Then in a moment's time, sir,

He loath'd the luscious feast;

And dreaded, as a crime, sir,

The brimming bowl to taste.

Now, if you're for applying

The story I have told,

I think there's no denying

'Tis worth its weight in gold.

Ye gay, who view this stranger,

And pity his sad case;

And think there was great danger

In Damocles's case;

Come let this aweful truth

In all your minds be stor'd;

That DEATH o'er every youth

Hangs like a pointed sword.

And tho' you see no reason,

To check your mirth at all;

In some sad drunken season

The sword on you may fall.

So learn, while at your ease

You drink down draughts delicious,

To think of Damocles,

And old King Dionysius.

Information about this book

Title statement

King Dionysius and Squire Damocles: a new song on an old story. Proper to be sung at all feasts and merry-makings.

More, Hannah, 1745-1833.

Publication

Distributor

University of Oxford Text Archive
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ID [ota]

http://ota.ox.ac.uk/id/3890

ID [isbn10]

1106008898

ID [isbn13]

9781106008893

ID [TCP]

K033792.000

ID [BIBNO]

CW3314081033

ID [ECLL]

0723600200

Availability

Distributed by the University of Oxford under a Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike 3.0 Unported License

Source

— King Dionysius and Squire Damocles: a new song on an old story. Proper to be sung at all feasts and merry-makings., More, Hannah, 1745-1833.. 1 sheet : ill. ; 1/2⁰. [London?,. 1795?]. [Anonymous. By Hannah More.] ["There was a heathen man, sir,".] [At head: Cheap repository.] [Reproduction of original from the Bodleian Library (Oxford).] [English Short Title Catalog, ESTCT29445.] [Electronic data. Farmington Hills, Mich. : Thomson Gale, 2003. Page image (PNG). Digitized image of the microfilm version produced in Woodbridge, CT by Research Publications, 1982-2002 (later known as Primary Source Microfilm, an imprint of the Gale Group).]

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