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<DATE>2008-10-02</DATE>
<RESPSTMT>
<NAME>tcpstaff</NAME>
<RESP>MURP</RESP>
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<ITEM>Proofed and reviewed as part of batch B080842.pdcc.</ITEM>
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<EEBO>
<IDG S="marc" R="UM" ID="B04152">
<STC T="W">L2907</STC>
<BIBNO T="umi">99884992</BIBNO>
<VID>182800</VID>
</IDG>
<TEXT LANG="eng">
<BODY>
<DIV1 TYPE="poem">
<PB REF="1" MS="y"><!-- PDF PAGE 10 -->
<HEAD>THE LONDON PRODIGAL, Or the Unfortunate Spendthrift.</HEAD>
<LG>
<L>OFt have I wonder'd at the various &s;tate,</L>
<L>The &s;trange <HI>Moeanders</HI> and the turns of Fate,</L>
<L>All humane actions top&s;ie turvy hurl'd;</L>
<L>Let's find &s;ome <HI>Bedlem</HI> for the frantick World.</L>
<L>Some cur&s;e their &s;tars, and think the Gods unju&s;t;</L>
<L><HI>Ye Heavens! and will ye thus reward our tru&s;t?</HI></L>
<L><HI>Our Virtue's great, but our requital &s;mall;</HI></L>
<L><HI>Let's Act for &s;omething, or not Act at all!</HI></L>
<L>Yet I have &s;een &s;ome Philo&s;ophick Souls,</L>
<L>Whom &s;o &s;upine a piety controuls;</L>
<L>That 'mid&s;t their Poverty will preach Content,</L>
<L>As Quaking Brethren do, <HI>Repent, repent.</HI></L>
</LG>
<LG>
<L>The Young Gallant who huffs it up and down,</L>
<L>The Spendthrift, &s;on of &s;ome penurious Clown;</L>
<L>Thinking his Father hath good &s;tore of pelf,</L>
<L><HI>Ah Ble&s;sed Je&s;us take him to thy &s;elf!</HI></L>
<L><HI>'Tis time, grown old in grace, from hence to flee;</HI></L>
<L><HI>Heaven's fit for him, and his E&s;tate for me:</HI></L>
<L><HI>Grant this reque&s;t, and I this vow will make,</HI></L>
<L><HI>To &s;pend it bravely for my Fathers &s;ake.</HI></L>
<L>The Mi&s;er dead, he &s;tands no more in aw;</L>
<L><HI>Who dares affront? God damme, Sir, I'll draw.</HI></L>
<L>Then combs and &s;ets his flaxen Wig with art,</L>
<L>To make &s;ome <HI>Whet&s;tones</HI> Lady break her heart;</L>
<L>Fea&s;ts nobly, &s;ets &s;ome Crowns upon the &s;core,</L>
<L>Then to the Play-hou&s;e, Tavern, or a Whore:</L>
<L>Ere evening comes perhaps gets &s;oundly drunk,</L>
<L>And &s;pends an hour in pa&s;time with a Punk;</L>
<L>A dainty Girl as ere did catch a fall,</L>
<L>She clings as clo&s;e as Ivy to the wall.</L>
<L>But now re&s;olv'd to purcha&s;e great applau&s;e,</L>
<L>And &s;how his valour in a womans cau&s;e,</L>
<L>He builds a &s;conce, the Bawd, the Whore he kicks,</L>
<L>Then runs; <HI>Pox take you, Sir, are the&s;e your tricks?</HI></L>
<L>Proud of his late &s;ucce&s;s, he doth defie</L>
<L>All future dangers, and as &s;tout as <HI>Guy,</HI></L>
<L>Breaks through the Watch, and then more valiant grows;</L>
<L>The windows feel his fury as he goes;</L>
<L>Cla&s;h goes the Gla&s;s; the people wake, and fear</L>
<L>Some Regiment of Cut-throat Papi&s;ts near.</L>
<L>Thus their fanta&s;tick thoughts them&s;elves beguile,</L>
<L>When 'tis &s;ome drunken <HI>Hector</HI> all the while.</L>
<L>But now i'th' mid&s;t of his triumphant Reign,</L>
<L>His greate&s;t Plea&s;ure proves his greate&s;t Pain;</L>
<L>He finds his Stock dimini&s;h, and be&s;ide</L>
<L>Percieves him&s;elf compleatly Frenchify'd.</L>
<L>Such pocky luck does to the Brave befall;</L>
<L><HI>Ah rotten Whores! Hells cur&s;e light on you all!</HI></L>
<L>Now doth him&s;elf with purging med'cines drench,</L>
<L>And thinks his <HI>Doctor</HI> dearer than his <HI>Wench.</HI></L>
<L>The Purge, the Syringe, and the Flux endur'd;</L>
<L>His pocket drein'd, him&s;elf three quarters cur'd;</L>
<L>Ventures abroad &s;ometimes, but yet by &s;tealth;</L>
<L>His <HI>Pur&s;e</HI> b'ing now grown poorer than his <HI>health:</HI></L>
<L>He finds his wants no longer can be hid,</L>
<L>Nor can he huff, nor &s;wagger as he did.</L>
<L>His <HI>Taylor</HI> duns, his credits almo&s;t lo&s;t,</L>
<L>His <HI>Tavern</HI>-&s;cores do haunt him like a <HI>Gho&s;t.</HI></L>
<L>He &s;ees his fault, and knows not what to think,</L>
<L>At la&s;t re&s;olves to &s;punge on Game&s;ters drink;</L>
<L>To pimp, to &s;hark for all that ere he gets;</L>
<L>Or fright &s;ome Cully from their Coyn and Wits.</L>
<L>This further Cur&s;e the&s;e Prodigals attends,</L>
<L>Their Lives are oft le&s;s wretched than their Ends;</L>
<L>Their thoughts, their actions &s;acrific'd to vice,</L>
<L>To &s;wearing, drinking, huffing, whores and dice.</L>
<L><HI>They headlong to their certain ruine run;</HI></L>
<L><HI>The Gallows &s;eems to call them, and they come.</HI></L>
</LG>
</DIV1>
<DIV1 TYPE="license">
<P>WITH ALLOWANCE.</P>
</DIV1>
</BODY>
<BACK>
<DIV1 TYPE="colophon">
<P><HI>LONDON,</HI> Printed by <HI>J.W.</HI> for <HI>R.C.</HI> over again&s;t the Globe in <HI>Little Brittain,</HI> 1673.</P>
</DIV1>
</BACK>
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