A Looking-Glass for
Lascivious Young Men:
OR, THE
Prodigal Son SIFTED.
Wherein is plainly discovered the Follies and Extravagancies of a Young Man, who gave
himself up to all manner of Vice. To the great Grief of his Careful Parents.
Tune of, I marry and thank you too. Licensed and Entred according to Order
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AN Honest Old Man of late,
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had gotten a Prodigal Son;
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Who spent his Coyn at a mad rate,
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as if it 'twou'd never be done.
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His Father did pine away,
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his Mother did mourn and weep;
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These courses spoil'd their Mirth by day,
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and rob'd them by night of Sleep.
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At length the young Spark came home,
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as poor as an old Church-mouse;
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So threadbare was the silly Mome,
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he could not harbour a Louse.
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The Old Folks took him to task,
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and Hoisted him into a Sieve;
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Where they did many questions ask,
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but not account he wou'd give.
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They Sifted him o're and o're,
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at last they made him confess;
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And first came out a strapping Whore,
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her name it was bouncing Bess.
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This slut she had suck'd him dry,
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of all his Mony and Wit:
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Which made him now to roar and cry,
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and look as he were besh------
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They give him the other shake.
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and out comes Eight or Nine more;
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Which made them both such pains to take,
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until they siifted a score.
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Next comes a young Bastard forth,
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at which the old Woman starts;
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It was a lumping penny-worth,
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a perfect buddle of Farts.
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With that the old Man took heart,
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and said to his frowning Wife;
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Let's sift him throughly e're we part,
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[si]nce we shall have Grandsons rife.
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No no, then answer'd the Dame,
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this one is enough for me;
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For it wou'd be a burning shame
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more bastardly Babes to see.
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Wee'l Sift him no more for such,
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but try him for other game:
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With that they gave him t'other touch,
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and forth a Lac'd Cravat came.
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A pair of frings Gloves fell next
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with Handkerchiefs Eight or Nine;
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My son quoth they keep to this Text,
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and we shall not much repine.
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Then to it a main they went,
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and roundly sifted the Sot;
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When loe to their great discontent
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they found out the Lord knows what.
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A whole Magazine of Dice,
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with Ninepins and Cards good store;
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And after all a peck of Lice
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came tumbling on the floor.
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And that which was worst of all,
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they sifted the Spark so long;
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They broke the Sieve and let him fall,
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and so I must end my Song.
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