A Discription of Plain-dealing, Time, and Death,
Which all Men ought to mind whilst they do live on earth.
Abuse not Plain-dealing, but keep your Conscience clear,
Spend well your Time also, then Death you need not fear.
Plain-dealing is grown out of Date
Because he is poor, many him hate:
Conscience likewise is laid aside,
'Cause he base Actions can't abide.
To the Tune of, A Letter for a Christian Family.
Written by Thomas Lanfire.
Plain-dealing loves Honesty,
Conscience hates Knavery.
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Plain-Dealing.
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I Am Plain-dealing which all men ought to use,
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But many now a days doth me abuse:
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Dissemulation is esteemed best,
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Poor Plain-dealing is grown out of request.
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In City, Town, and likewise in Country,
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They say plain-dealing will a Beggar Dye:
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Gallants they at me do both mock and flout,
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Because that I go in a Thread-bare Coat.
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The reason that so many doth me slight,
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Is because I am Honest and Down-right:
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I use no Deceit, Fraud, nor Flattery,
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But does to all men as I'de be done by.
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I am not Covetous nor Worldly wise,
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I crave no more then what will me suffice:
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I hate vain Pride which now too much doth reign,
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Therefore plain-dealing they'l not entertain.
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In Days of Old I was a welcome Guest,
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And had good entertainment with the best:
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I was esteemed amongst Rich and Poor,
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But now plain-dealing is turn'd out of Door.
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For now Dissemulation hath got the Day,
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And in this Nation bears a mighty sway:
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plain-dealing is held in scorn and disgrace,
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Alack, when shall I find a resting-place.
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Conscience.
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My Name is Conscience, poor plain-dealings mate
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Although like him, i'm Old and out of date:
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Many with their whole hearts doth me defie,
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'Cause Conscience can't agree with Knavery.
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But if I within their Bosoms once do creep,
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With their base actions I prick their hearts deep:
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I mind them of their Covetousness and Pride,
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Therefore poor Conscience they cannot abide.
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The Lawyer and Usurer hath forgot me,
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They Gripe poor Men Unconscionably:
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They study only how to keep up Gold,
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Conscience and plain-dealing they quite have fold.
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And many others in these times there are,
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That of their Conscience do not take no care:
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They pawn their Conscience for Lucre of gain,
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Which Conscience will to them at last make plain.
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So many are inclin'd to Cruelty,
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And doth Conscience and plain-dealing defie:
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Tell them of Conscience they'l count you their foe,
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Quoth they Conscience was Hangd long time ago.
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But I wish such men they folly would refuse,
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Lest Conscience at the last should them accuse:
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In a good Conscience a man may put trust,
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Then see you keep your Conscience right and just.
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Time it doth pass away full fast,
Yet many doth spend Time in waste:
When Time is gone then cometh Death,
And puts a stop to Mortal Breath.
Time doth stay for none.
Death Cuts down every one.
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TIME.
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I Am the antient standard of great fame,
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Which all men ought to prize, Time is my name:
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But this vain world doth now so many blind,
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So that I am almost grown out of mind.
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For why, I am slighted by many a one,
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Who ne'r thinks on me till i'm past and gone:
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And then too late they do mourn and complain,
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Wishing they could recall back Time again.
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Some spendeth their whole Time most wickedly,
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In Drunkenness, Whoredom, and Blasphemy:
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And some again sets their delight in Pride,
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Not thinking how their precious Time doth slide.
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Time is a stately jewel of great gain,
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If it be well priz'd and not spent in vain:
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Those that their time bestows in doing well,
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In happiness no doubt but they shall dwell.
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And those that spends their time in Idleness,
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Shall one day want it in their great distress:
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The whole world can't lost time restore,
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Yesterday's gone and will ne'r return more.
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Time's last Speech to the World.
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Like to an Arrow shot out of a Bow,
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Like to the Tide the which doth Ebb and Flow:
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Like to a Bird full swift I flye away,
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For Rich nor Poor i'le not make any stay.
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DEATH.
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I am the chief Commander Captain Death,
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I Fight against all Mortals upon Earth:
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When I amongst them chance to have a care,
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I Conquer all, none dare with me hold War.
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I fear not the bravest Champions that be,
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Though they are stout, yet they can't Conquer me:
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'Tis not Manhood nor Valour can them save,
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I make them stoop and yield unto the Grave.
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The chiefest Prince that in the world doth Live,
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When I him strike, he up the Ghost must give:
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His whole Kingdom can't him from me retain,
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From Dust he came, and shall to Dust again,
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Of Rich mens Power I do not stand in fear,
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Nor for their loftiness I do not care:
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Their Pride and Honour in the Earth I lay,
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When their Glass is out, with me they must away.
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Thus Rich and Poor, with Old and Young also,
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Both Wise and Simple to the Grave must go:
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There's no respect of Persons, worst or best,
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All must at last by me lye Mortuus est.
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When I on Mortals lay my fatal stroke,
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They can't in no wise slip out of my Yoak:
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I come suddenly and unawares to all,
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Then see you are prepar'd when Death doth call.
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