A CAVEAT for Tiplers:
OR,
A Pious and Religious Reformation,
Appointed by His Sacred Majesty, for the due Obser-
vance of the Sabbath, to the Honour of GOD, the Good of the
KINGDOM, that Peace and Plenty may flourish upon a long and
lasting Foundation. To the Tune of, Packington's Pound.
Licens'd and Enter'd according to Order.
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YOu Sabbath-day Tiplers, pray do not repine,
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That you are deny'd of the drinking of wine,
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And other strong liquours upon the Lord's Day,
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It is for your good; therefore mind what I say,
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You will find the benefit of it I know,
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Both inward and outward far better you'll grow,
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For many a Sixpence and Shilling you ll save,
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While tipling on Sundays no longer we have.
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The Ale-wives crys out that the Laws are severe,
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Yet nevertheless I will make it appear,
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That while they went on in their tipling trade,
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Both they and their Cronies no conscience they made;
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But all sermon-time they would revel and swear;
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The which was notorious I needs must declare;
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Now many a Sixpence and Shilling they'll save,
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While tipling on Sundays no longer we have.
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That sin both endangers their Bodies and Souls,
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For while they run on in their hectoring bowls;
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The Rich was made poor, and the Poor was made worse,
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No cloaths to their back, nor a groat in their purse;
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But poverty was their companion always,
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While some in a Prison had ended their days;
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Now many a Sixpence and Shilling they'll save,
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While tipling on Sundays no longer we have.
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To sit in an Ale-house from morning to night,
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Both drinking and smoaking the Devil's delight;
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There funking Tobacco, set forth such a smell,
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As if they had been on the borders of Hell,
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Still belching forth many a horrable oath,
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But now let these Gallants be sober henceforth:
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Then many a Sixpence and Shilling they'll save,
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While tipling on Sundays no longer we have.
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Some Men that has wrought for nine shillings a week,
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Upon the Lord's Day they would ramble to seek
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For jovial Companions to tipple and drink;
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With whom they would waste the best part of their chink,
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Which they had been working for six days before,
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O this was a practice which still kept them poor;
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Now many a Sixpence and Shilling they'll save,
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While tipling on Sunday no longer we have.
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From Ale-house to Ale-house, they'd ramble and roam,
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And may be at night they'd come staggering home;
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Their Wives have been careful to get them to bed,
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Next morning the liquor has lain in their head;
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So that beside all their vast charges and cost,
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Both Monday and Tuesday they commonly lost;
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Now many a Sixpence and Shilling they'll save,
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While tipling on Sunday no longer we have.
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Smiths, Carpenters, Joyners, and Bricklayers too,
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House-painters and all the boon frolicksome Crew;
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And many more Tradesmen which here I might name,
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For Sabbath-day tippling, was highly to blame,
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For all the day long they would tope liquor strong,
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By which their poor Families suffer'd much wrong;
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Now many a Sixpence and Shilling they'll save,
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Now Sabbath-day Tipling no longer they'll have.
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For while they did lead such extravagant lives,
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Behold their poor Children and sorrowful Wives
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At home they might sit, and without e're a bit,
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While Men in the Ale-house drank more than was fit;
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It was but in vain for to sigh and complain,
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They would no their frollicksome courses refrain;
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Now many a Sixpence and Shilling they'll save,
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While tipling on Sunday no longer we have.
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These Fudlers then, Ralph, Robin, and Ben,
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They look'd like dejected poor sorrowful Men;
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Which often they meet here in every street,
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For want of strong liquor each other to treat;
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Poor Fellows they'r vexed and griev'd to the Heart,
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Because with dry lips they are forced to part;
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But many a Sixpence and Shilling they'll save,
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While tipling on Sunday no longer we have.
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Quoth Richard to Robin, Dear Brother 'tis hard,
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That we from strong liquor should be so debarr'd.
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Adzugers, so 'tis, lusty Roger replies,
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While sorrowful tears trickle down from his eyes;
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Like a Child for the Breast, they did long I protest,
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For a Pipe and a Pot could not be at rest;
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Yet many a Sixpence and Shilling they'll save,
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While tipling on Sunday no longer we have.
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Now you that are vext at this sober Decree,
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Both Ale-wives or Fudlers who ever you be;
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Be pleas'd to take notice of what I shall say,
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Is it not far better to honour the Day,
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Then to sit in Ale-houses quaffing full bowls,
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Expending your Mony and wronging your Souls;
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Both which you may truly endeavour to save,
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Since tipling on Sundays no longer we have.
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