<!DOCTYPE ETS PUBLIC "-//UMDLPS//DTD EEBOPROOF 2.0//EN">
<ETS>
<TEMPHEAD>
<REVDESCR>
<CHANGE>
<DATE>2008-06-03</DATE>
<RESPSTMT>
<NAME>Mona Logarbo</NAME>
<RESP>MURP</RESP>
</RESPSTMT>
<ITEM>Proofed and reviewed as part of batch B080515.pdcc.</ITEM>
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<EEBO>
<IDG S="marc" R="UM" ID="B06397">
<STC T="W">U65</STC>
<BIBNO T="umi">99887336</BIBNO>
<VID>182047</VID>
</IDG>
<TEXT>
<BODY>
<DIV1 TYPE="ballad">
<PB REF="1"><!-- PDF PAGE 8 -->
<HEAD>The Ungrateful Son:<LB> OR, An Example of God's Ju&s;tice upon abu&s;eful Di&s;obedience of a Fal&s;e-hearted and cruel Son to his Aged Father.</HEAD>
<OPENER>To the Tune of <HI>Kenti&s;h Miracle.</HI></OPENER>
<P><TEXT>
<BODY>
<DIV1 TYPE="license">
<P><HI>Licen&s;ed according to Order.</HI></P>
</DIV1>
</BODY>
</TEXT></P>
<P><FIGURE>
</FIGURE></P>
<P><FIGURE>
</FIGURE></P>
<LG>
<L>OF an ungrateful Son,</L>
<L>my purpo&s;e is to write,</L>
<L>By whom a Father was undone,</L>
<L>and clearly ruin'd quite:</L>
<L>The Sequel of this Song</L>
<L>will make it well appear,</L>
<L>That tho&s;e that do their Parents wrong,</L>
<L>will feel God's Wrath &s;evere.</L>
</LG>
<LG>
<L>An ancient wealthy Man,</L>
<L>near <HI>London</HI> lived indeed,</L>
<L>Who at his Door reliev'd the Poor,</L>
<L>and tho&s;e that &s;tood in need:</L>
<L>But Troubles coming on,</L>
<L>we find that ev'ry where,</L>
<L>Religious Men, not One in Ten,</L>
<L>but per&s;ecuted were.</L>
</LG>
<LG>
<L>And eke for Con&s;cience &s;ake,</L>
<L>in Pri&s;on was likewi&s;e,</L>
<L>Informers they made them their Prey,</L>
<L><HI>Rome</HI>'s Malice to &s;uffice;</L>
<L>Both Lands and Goods were &s;eiz'd,</L>
<L>no Pity they'd afford,</L>
<L>For at that time 'twas thought a Crime,</L>
<L>to &s;erve the living Lord.</L>
</LG>
<LG>
<L>This good man &s;eeing then,</L>
<L>how &s;trange the things did run,</L>
<L>He did depend, to find a Friend</L>
<L>of his beloved Son;</L>
<L>Therefore without delay,</L>
<L>he call'd him out of hand,</L>
<L>And did make o're his Goods and Store,</L>
<L>likewi&s;e his Hou&s;e and Land.</L>
</LG>
<LG>
<L>Said he, my Son be ju&s;t,</L>
<L>&s;ecure the &s;ame for me;</L>
<L>I have no Friend that I can tru&s;t</L>
<L>in the&s;e Affairs but thee:</L>
<L>Dear Father, then &s;aid he,</L>
<L>Your Will &s;hall be obey'd,</L>
<L>And if I wrong you let me &s;ee</L>
<L>a ju&s;t Example made.</L>
</LG>
<LG>
<L>The old Man him believ'd,</L>
<L>and turn'd o're his E&s;tate,</L>
<L>But yet at la&s;t, e'er Three years pa&s;t</L>
<L>he did repent at la&s;t;</L>
<L>For after turn of times,</L>
<L>did Liberty afford.</L>
<L>The old Man went with full intent,</L>
<L>to have his Means re&s;tor'd.</L>
</LG>
<LG>
<L>Then coming to the Gate,</L>
<L>whereas his Son did dwell,</L>
<L>It was one Evening &s;omething late,</L>
<L>the very Truth to tell;</L>
<L>The Servant let him in,</L>
<L>and when he was &s;et down,</L>
<L>The Son with Anger did begin</L>
<L>to knit his Brows and frown.</L>
</LG>
<LG>
<L>The Father &s;aid, My Son,</L>
<L>I come in hopes, that you</L>
<L>Will now return the great Concern,</L>
<L>which is my proper due:</L>
<L>Ye Presbyterian Knave,</L>
<L>&s;aid this Son, void of &s;hame,</L>
<L>I'll part with nothing that I have,</L>
<L>be gone from whence ye came.</L>
</LG>
<LG>
<L>The old Man then be&s;ought</L>
<L>this Villain to forbear,</L>
<L>I am your Father which hath brought</L>
<L>you up with Co&s;t and Care.</L>
<L>But yet he rav'd the more,</L>
<L>and Cur&s;es did repeat,</L>
<L>At length he threw him out of Door,</L>
<L>and kick'd him in the Street.</L>
</LG>
<LG>
<L>His Eyes like Fountains flow,</L>
<L>run down his Cheeks like Rain,</L>
<L>His aged Hair as white as Snow,</L>
<L>no Pity could obtain.</L>
<L>O cruel wretched Son!</L>
<L>the Father then reply'd,</L>
<L>Con&s;ider well what thou ha&s;t done,</L>
<L>God will pull down thy Pride.</L>
</LG>
<LG>
<L>The bitter Winds did blow,</L>
<L>the Skies was darkned quite,</L>
<L>And for a Lodging where to go</L>
<L>he did not know that Night;</L>
<L>But Heaven did provide</L>
<L>for him in that di&s;tre&s;s,</L>
<L>He with a Farmer did re&s;ide,</L>
<L>who did his Love expre&s;s.</L>
</LG>
<LG>
<L>But for this wicked Son,</L>
<L>e'er Morning did appear.</L>
<L>He quite be&s;ides his Wits did run,</L>
<L>God's Wrath was &s;o &s;evere:</L>
<L>Then for a Week or more,</L>
<L>Father, Father, he cry'd,</L>
<L>In frantick Fits be&s;ides his Wits,</L>
<L>and then at length he dy'd.</L>
</LG>
<LG>
<L>Thus for his Villany,</L>
<L>God &s;ent him to the Grave;</L>
<L>O let the&s;e Lines a warning be,</L>
<L>to all that Parents have;</L>
<L>Be dutiful always,</L>
<L>and do not Parents &s;corn,</L>
<L>For tho&s;e that do, in time may rue,</L>
<L>they'd better ne'er been born.</L>
</LG>
</DIV1>
</BODY>
<BACK>
<DIV1 TYPE="colophon">
<P><HI>Printed for</HI> P. Brooksby, I. Deacon, I. Blare, I. Back.</P>
</DIV1>
</BACK>
</TEXT>
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