TIMES PRECIOUS JEWEL,
OR,
A DIALOGUE between a
YOUNG-MAN and DEATH.
BEING
A Seasonable Warning for Youth to Forsake their Sins, and to lead a Religious Life:
Lest Death Surprize them, and Repentance comes too late. This may be Printed, R.M.
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Youth.
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WHile Youthful Blood is flowing in my Veins
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And Providence Prosperity ordains;
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The Glory of this World I here will view,
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And her sweet Baits will eagerly pursue:
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I'll search Earths Bowels, cross the roaring Seas,
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I'll break my rest, nay, forfeit all my ease,
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So I may but arrive to that degree,
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As to inrich my whole Posterity.
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Death.
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Forbear fond Youth, and be not so profuse,
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For I am come to bring unwelcome News;
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Thy tender Thread of Life is at an end,
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Into Eternity thy Soul I'll send.
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Youth.
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What sudden Tydings soundeth in mine Ear?
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Pray wherefore do you now seem so severe?
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Forbear a while your Fury fierce and hot,
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I solemnly protest I know you not;
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Nor did I ever see your Face before,
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Depart I say, come not a near me more.
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Death.
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I am the Great Ambassador, call'd Death,
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Who does deprive all Mortals of their Breath;
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Where e're I come, there's none dare say me No,
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And you shall feel my power e're I go:
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Here in my Hand behold my Fatal Dart!
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Which suddenly shall penetrate thy heart.
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Youth.
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Stand back pale Death, do not approach so near
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My Person now, for why, the Case is clear,
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That you so soon was never sent to me,
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Behold I'm Youthful, Strong and Stout, you see:
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Extend thy spight to those that lies in Tears,
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For I am Youthful, and of tender Years.
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Death.
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Tho' you are in the Glory of your prime,
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Yet you must hence, 'tis your appointed time:
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Where is the brave Victorious Alexander,
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Who in his days was the whole worlds Commander
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Where are those Hero's Fam'd in high Renown,
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Whose Noble Actions merited a Crown?
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Youth, Beauty, Strength, and Wealth, cannot obtain
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No Favour from me, nor one Minute gain,
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For my Imperial power is from on High,
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God has decreed that thou this day shalt Dye;
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Therefore poor Mortal, do not think to save
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Thyself, by fair Excuses, from a Grave.
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Youth.
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O tell me not that I this World shall leave
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So soon, for why, it makes my Soul to grieve;
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Fain would I live to soar on Wings of Fame,
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To purchase here a long and lasting Name;
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With Honour here I fain would be possest,
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Be kind, pale Death, and grant me my Request.
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Death.
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Wert thou Adorned with a Royal Robe,
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And was Supream of all the Earthly Globe,
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And many thousand Knees before you bow,
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Yet I one Minutes time cannot allow;
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Croesus, whose Gold surpass'd the Indian Wealth,
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Could not one Minute add unto his Health:
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This failing, shews all things are Transitory,
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Both the Worlds Riches, and its fading Glory;
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Therefore depend not here on things below,
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But place thy thoughts whereas true Riches flow;
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Lay hold on Faith, Repent thy Sins, for why,
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Thy Glass is run, and thou this day must Dye.
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Youth.
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Whose Sorrow in the world is like to mine?
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O let me Live my Actions to refine;
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Here with thy Dart pray do not me assail,
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For longer Life let Youthfulness prevail.
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Death.
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I never granted Favour on these terms,
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Thy Youthful Flesh shall make a Feast for Worms;
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Thy dear-bought Soul shall take its flight also,
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To perfect Bliss or Everlasting Woe.
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Youth.
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That Word of Woe strikes Terror to my Soul,
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Alas! my Sins are many, gross and foul;
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O grant me but a Season to Repent,
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For fear I am to Endless sorrow sent;
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I never thought of this my Dying day,
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But spent in Sin, my precious time away;
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My former Sins come fresh into my mind,
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O that I might of thee this favour find,
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To fit myself for thee before I go,
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Pitty those Tears that from mine eyes do flow.
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Death.
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My Name is DEATH, and can no pitty take,
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You must with me, and this vain World forsake;
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Pray was not you endu'd with time and space,
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Then wherefore did you slight the means of Grace?
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You knew full well this time would come at last,
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When as your fading Pleasures all were past;
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When you were in your full Prosperity,
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You oftentimes beheld Mortality
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In e'ry Street where you were pleas'd to roam,
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Conveying to their long and lasting home;
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Methinks the sound of e'ry Passing-Bell,
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Might have learn'd you the way of living well;
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But now it is too late, and therefore you
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Must hence with me, and bid the world adieu.
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Youth.
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My Dying Minute's come, and I must be
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Launch'd to the Ocean of Eternity;
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But yet, alas! my Sins does cause much woe,
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O that the Lord in love would Favour show;
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In whom indeed, alone I put my trust,
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Thou art both Gracious, Merciful and Just:
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O pardon me, ev'n for thy Mercies sake;
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And then with Sighs and Tears his heart did break.
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Both Old and Young that hear these Lines, I pray,
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Prepare yourselves against your Dying day:
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The Youngest Person here, for ought we know,
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May soon be laid down in a Grave full low:
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Our Lives, alas! are but a blast of Breath,
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And there is no Repentance after Death.
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