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EBBA 33304

National Library of Scotland - Crawford
Ballad XSLT Template
The AGE of MAN,
Displayed in TEN different Stages of LIFE.

IN prime of Years when I was Young,
I took Delight in youthful Toys,
Not knowing then what did belong
Unto the Pleasure of those Days:
At Seven Years old I was a Child,
And subject then to be beguil'd,

At Two Times Seven I must needs go learn
What Discipline was taught at School,
Then Good from Evil I could discern,
And thought Myself no more a Child;
My Parents were contriving then,
How I might Live when I became a Man.

At Three Times Seven I waxed Wild,
And Manhood led me to be Bold,

I thought Myself no more a Child,
My own Conceit it so Me told:
Then did I venture Far and Near
To buy Delight at a Price full Dear.

At Four Times Seven I must take a Wife,
And leave off all my wanton Ways?
Thinking thereby perhaps to Thrive,
And save Myself from sad Disgrace:
So Farewell now, my companions all,
For another Business doth Me Call.

At Five Times Seven I would go prove
What I could gain by Art or Skill,
But still against the Stream I strove,
And bowl'd up Stones against the Hill:

The more I labour'd with Might and Maiu,
The more I strove against the Stream.

At Six Times Seven all Covetousness
Began to harbour in my Breast,
My Mind then still contriving was,
How I might gain this Worldly Wealth:
To purchase Lands and live on them,
To make my Children Mighty Men.

At Seven Times Seven all Worldly Care
Began to harbour [i]n my Brain,
Then did I drink a heavy Draught
Of Water of Experience plain:
There was none so ready then as I,
To purchase Bargains, to sell or Buy.

At Eight Times Seven I waxed Old,
And took myself unto my Rest,
My Neighbours then my Council crav'd,
And I was had in great Request:
But Age did so abate my Strength,
That I was forc'd to yield at length.

At Nine Times Seven I must take my Leave
Of all my former vain Delights,
And then full sore it did me grieve,
I fetched many a bitter Sigh;
To rise up early and sit up late,
I was no longer fit, my Strength did abate.

At Ten Times Seven my Glass was run,
And I poor silly Man must die;
I looked up and saw the Sun
Had overcome the crystal Sky;
And now I must this World forsake,
And another Man my Place must take.

Now you may see as in a Glass,
The whole Estate of Mortal Men,
How they from Seven to Seven do pass,
Untill they are Threescore and Ten:
And when their Glass is fully run,
They must leave off where they first began.


Printed and Sold in Aldermary Church Yard, Bow
Lane, London. st

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