EBBA 30655
British Library - Roxburghe
| The Prodigal Son Converted, / OR / The Young-man return'd from his Rambles. / Wit ne're till now, was cry'd about the street, / At the low rate o a poor Penny sheet; / Sharp times will make sharp wits, not fear sharp tongues, / 'Tis we who money want which suffer wrongs; / You can't command a Poet with a frown / To write new Songs: but yours, for a Crown: / Here's that will please you sure, and much befreind ye. / You'll thank the Author, if the Devil be n't in ye. | ||
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| Date Published | 1640-1674 ? | |
| Author | ||
| Standard Tune | ||
| Imprint | Printed for R, Burton, at the Horse-shooe in West-Smithfield. | |
| License | ||
| Collection | British Library - Roxburghe | |
| Pages | 3.188, 3.189 | |
| Location | British Library | |
| Shelfmark | C.20.f.9.188-189 | |
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| MARC Record | ||
| Additional Information | ||
| Part 1 | Part 2 | |
| Title | The Prodigal Son Converted, / OR / The Young-man return'd from his Rambles. / Wit ne're till now, was cry'd about the street, / At the low rate o a poor Penny sheet; / Sharp times will make sharp wits, not fear sharp tongues, / 'Tis we who money want which suffer wrongs; / You can't command a Poet with a frown / To write new Songs: but yours, for a Crown: / Here's that will please you sure, and much befreind ye. / You'll thank the Author, if the Devil be n't in ye. | The Second part, |
| Tune Imprint | To a pleasant New Play-house Tune call'd The Delights of the Bottle, &c. | To the same Tune. |
| First Lines | THe delights & the pleasures / of a man without care, | First the Tavern me courted / to lend it some coin, |
| Refrain | Debauches are sorrows, / and robs us of rest, / Tis temperate man / with enjoyment is blest. | These tickl'd my fancy / with vice all a-mode, / Then I must be riding / in that pleasant Road. [with variation] | The fidlers to curse / and the drawers command / Is enough for those Fops / who no more understand. | Then home to her lodging / She might easily draw me, / My flames made me bold / that I car'd not who saw me. [with variation] | For swearing and cursing / in common discourse, / I thought, if left out, / made my language the worse [with variation] | Yet with a true friend / merry and jolly, / With a Bottle or two / I do count it no folly. |
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