Wit's never good till 'tis bought: OR.  
Good counsel for improvident men.  
Fit to make use of now and then.  
To the tune of Bases Career.  

 

ONce musing alone,  
upon things many a one,  
Well observed and known by myself,  
especially how,  
that which late did flow,  
I have wasted and now I want pelse:  
this vexed me sore,  
and made me deplore,  
That I had not before of it thought,  
from experience I learned,  
what I since have discerned,  
That tive wit's never good till 'tis bought.   

Full many a time,  
when I was in my prime,  
My ambition to climb honour's hill,  
did me forward prick,  
but my jade did so kick,  
And dame fortune a trick found to kill,  
my hope in the bloeme,  
and debased my plume:  
I did further presume than I ought,  
than I wished I had stayed,  
at my own proper trade,  
But true wit's never good till 'tis bought.   

To fight and to brawl,  
and to quarrel with all,  
And my better's miscall, I have used,  
but with woe I did find,  
all are not of one mind,  
Though I oft in some kind was excused,  
yet sometimes I got,  
a knock with a pot,  
When to speak and when not, thua I'm taught,  
now where ever I come,  
I'll keep peace in the rooms,  
Thus true wits never good till 'tis bought.   

I used to roar,  
and to drink on the score,  
And I never thought more on the shot  
come Tapster said I,  
one tooth still is dry,  
Then fills (by and by) other pot,  
I called still apace,  
but within a short space,  
Into a strong place, was I bought,  
then for eight hours' waist,  
four days I must fast,  
Thus true wits never good till 'tis bought.   

I once had command,  
of houses and Land,  
Thus my case well did stand, among men:  
but moved with pride,  
and contention beside,  
I would wrangle or chide, now and then:  
if a horse I but found,  
to leap into my ground,  
Strait away to the pound, he was brought:  
now I wish I had still,  
kept my neighbours good will,  
But true wit's never good till 'tis bought.   

This rancour and spleen,  
my ruin hath been,  
As may plainly be seen, by my state:  
contention in Law,  
did my purse empty draw,  
Which I never sawfore till 'tis too late,  
upon every slight thing,  
I my action would bring,  
But my hands now I wring, with the thought:  
now I wish I had that,  
which hath made others flat.  
But ttue wit's never good till 'tis bought.    

The second part;  
To the same tune.  
 

IN company base,  
that are boyd of all grace,  
I came often in place, by mere chance,  
but being with them,  
whom alone I'd condemn,  
I'd in presence esteem, and advance:  
but being apart,  
catechising my heart,  
It much sorrow & smart hath me brought:  
then with sad melancholy,  
I weep for my folly.  
Thus wits never good till 'tis bought.   

Bestees now and then,  
I have happened with men,  
That too cunning have been, at the catch:  
And then in my drink,  
A with paper and ink,  
Have made I did think, a good match:  
but after when I,  
more deliberately,  
The business to try all had boought,  
I have foined myself cheated,  
and basely defeated,  
Thus wits never good till ' 'tis bought.   

Moreover I have,  
told my mind to a knave,  
Thinking him truly grave, truly just:  
I my heart have exposed,  
and my secrets disclosed,  
As a friend I reposed, on his trust:  
but the Rascal ignoble,  
his heart being double,  
Me much woe and trouble hath wrought  
but I've learnt ere since that,  
to take heed of my chat,  
Thus true wits never good till 'tis bought.   

When I was a Lad,  
a good service I had,  
Then my mind was to gadding 〈◊〉  
though I nothing did lack,  
nor for belly nor back,  
Yet I was not with that well content●…  
but upon small distaste,  
myself I displaced,  
Thus my downfall in haste than shen 〈…〉  
since I wished to obtain,  
what I oft did disdain  
Thus true wits never good 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉   

Too willing I was  
my own credit to pass,  
Now I find it alas, to my pain,  
that with setting my hand,  
to another man's band,  
For to sell honse and Land, I was fain●  
I have passed my word,  
for what others have scored,  
And I oft like a bird have been caught,  
in the prison to stay,  
where I sung Lachrima,  
Thus true wits never good till 〈◊〉 〈◊〉   

If any of those,  
that are (causeless) my foe●  
Should so rashly suppose, in them heart●  
that all in this song,  
to myself doth belong,  
Their conjecture is wrong, for the 〈…〉  
whoever they be,  
where they something way see,  
By which every degree, may be taught,  
what ever's thy profession,  
thou mayst learn this lesson,  
That wit's never good till 'tis bought▪    
FINIS   

Printed at London for Thomas Lambert.