Honest Counsel.  
A Merry fit of a Poetical Fury: Good to read, better to follow.  
Imprinted at London by W.W. for William jones dwelling at the sign of the Gun near Holborn Conduit. 1605.   

TO THE RIGHT WOR. MY VERY GOOD FRIEND AND LOVING FATHER JAMES DACKHAM OF Steepleton in the county of Dorset Esquire; health, happiness, and heaven.  
MY good Father, the Love that I have ever noted in you, to all good Spirits, and especially the Learned, with the band of many good favours; wherein I am indebted to your kindness, made me in this little portical Round, to show you the labour of my Spirit; which with my harti● love I commend to your kind acceptation: the Tract is short, and the Lessons not unnecessary for old men to read, and young men to follow: Some lines may seem pretty, other pleasant; and some perhaps not unprofitable: As they be, I leave them to your leisure to peruse, and your pleasure to make use of: And so loath to be tedious in a trifle; w●●●ing you Croesus' treasure, with your Spirits better comfort, and continual health and happiness: In prayer for the same, in all thankfulness for your ever undeserved kidneys: I rest.  
Your loving Son, N. B.   

TO THE READER.  
ALl good Fathers that love their Children, and all good Children that would be loved of their Fathers, read and follow, if you can, and will, this Honest Counsel; fetched out of an odd Fury: no matter for the Rhyme, so the Reason serve turn: he meant well that wrote it; and you may take it well that read it: It is a Calendar of good Notes; and he that studies it well, may hap be as wise as a Walnut: Yet, as there is somewhat to laugh at, so there is somewhat to look at; which well perused, may yield profit: Such as it is, I commend it to your wit, and leisure, to make use of, as you have Reason: How soever it like your humour, show no Imperfection; but if you find it to your mind, much good do it you: if not, let it not trouble you: So wishing you to do as you list, I rest as I find cause.  
Your Friend, N. B.   

HONEST Counsel.  

MY Son, for that I hold thee dear,  
And have not long to tarry here;  
This Lesson kindly learn of me,  
To leave the World, ere it leave thee:  
And rather learn, and wish to die,  
Then live in filthy Villainy.  
Learn not to cog, and lie, and prate,  
To climb the steps of honours state:  
Nor weight upon a wicked Whore,  
Like Serberus, to keep her door,  
While that the Devil getteth in,  
To place him in the pride of sin.  
Nor follow Fools, nor flatter Knaves,  
Nor swagger with the swearing Slaves;  
Nor cousin any crooked Crone,  
Nor counterfeit a needle's moan.  
Nor cut a Purse, nor rob a Church,  
Nor give a silly soul the lurch:  
Nor want sufficient for thy need,  
Nor shrink to stand thy friend in steed.  
Nor foist a Die, nor cut a Card,  
Nor hinder Virtue of reward.  
Nor make Religion cloak of sin,  
Nor fall into the devils Gin.  
Learn not to paint an ugly face,  
Nor falsely plead a poor man's case.  
Nor take a Bribe, nor do a wrong,  
Nor pitiless a pain prolong.  
Nor plot a treason, nor conspire  
Too high an Honour to aspire.  
Nor lazy with the idle bones,  
Nor feed upon the needy ones.  
Nor false thy faith, nor fear thy foe:  
Nor seek thy wealth by others woe.  
Oh do not thou delight in blood,  
Nor, bear two faces in a hood:  
Nor play the Ass, to make men laugh,  
Nor with the drunkard learn to quaff:  
Nor swear, and lie, for worlds of wealth,  
Nor purchase Honours type by stealth.  
Nor cuckold Age, nor Slander Youth:  
Nor use thy tongue unto untruth,  
Nor bend thy wits to wanton tricks,  
Nor come too near the lade that kicks:  
Nor borrow still, and never pay,  
Nor Card nor Dice thy wealth away.  
Nor fall in love with foolish things,  
Nor come among the Serpent's Stings.  
Nor drown thyself in Puddle water,  
Nor set a gloze on an ill matter:  
Nor undermine an honest mind,  
Nor to a brother be unkind.  
Nor tempt the chaste affect, to evil:  
Nor follow Atheists to the Devil.  
Nor take In-cummes, raise no Rent,  
Nor murder any Innocent.  
Deflower no Virgin; trust betray,  
Nor wake the night, and sleep the day.  
Nor haunt the Fairies in the night,  
Nor carry Horns to all men's sight:  
Nor wear gay Clothes on thy back,  
And see a world of people lack.  
Nor scratch with Cats, nor snarl with Curs,  
Nor line thy Coat with Hedgehogs furs.  
Nor butt with Rams, nor fight with Bulls,  
Nor cheat upon a sight of Gulls.  
Nor grace the care of craftiness,  
Nor blot the name of nobleness.  
Nor tickle Folly in the ear,  
Nor like the Wind, be every where:  
Nor play with Monkeys, Apes, nor Owls,  
Nor hearken to the devils howls.  
Nor set thy heart in Beautis eyes,  
Nor make the Earth a Paradise.  
Nor put thy trust in any one,  
But only thy good God alone.  
Oh do not thou become a Dog,  
Nor feed upon a meazzled Hog.  
Nor in a poison seek for Honey,  
Nor like a Ferret, hunt a Coney.  
Nor like a Tiger, tear and kill,  
What ere he finds, his maw to fill.  
Do not thou set thy Love to sale,  
Nor listen to an idle tale.  
Nor bind a promise with an oath,  
And make no care of faith and troth.  
Nor follow Witches, nor their Charms,  
Nor, pleasure in thy neighbour's harms.  
Nor to an old grief, add a new.  
Nor in thy Conscience prove a Iew.  
Nor let a cruel Wolf go loose,  
Nor, with a Fox, to hunt a Goose.  
Nor love a Dog more than a Man,  
Nor kill a Duck, to gain a Swan.  
Nor chase a Flea, nor lodge a Louse,  
Nor swagger in a Bawdy house.  
Nor hunt a do that is with Fawn,  
Nor lay thy Lands nor Clothes to pawn,  
Nor live by Ballads nor bald Rhymes,  
Nor Libel upon lofty Crimes.  
Nor lose thy time in making love,  
Nor take a lack-daw for a Dove.  
Nor feed with Ravens, on little Lambs,  
Nor with the Eagle, kill their Dambes.  
Nor with the Cuckoo kill thy breeder,  
Nor laugh at any learned Reeder.  
Nor with the Turkey, beat thy Hen,  
Nor company with wicked Men:  
Nor make a travail unto Rome,  
And come, for to be hanged at home,  
Nor go to school for cunning Art,  
Nor learn to play the devils part.  
Oh do not thou corrupt thy Soul,  
With keeping of a cursed Roll:  
Nor blot thy Conscience with the blame  
Of a deserved wilful shame.  
Nor seek by power to oppress  
The Widow, nor the Fatherless.  
Nor serve the Proud, nor soothe the Rich,  
Nor tread the poor into the ditch.  
Nor creep into an open Ear,  
And seek a silly heart to tear.  
Nor look as big as fifteen beeves,  
Nor hang on every Rascals sleeves.  
Nor take delight in euey god,  
Nor play the Pander, nor the Bawd:  
The jack, the juggler, nor the jester:  
The Hangman, nor the debter-Rester.  
Oh do thou rather wish to die,  
Then live by beggars misery.  
Do not thou stalk like to a Steeple,  
To overlook a world of people:  
Nor creep and kneel unto a Thistle,  
Nor be at every beggars whistle.  
Nor use the trade of Usury,  
To bring poor men to beggary.  
Nor cousin Chapmen of their wares,  
Nor deal unequally in shares:  
Nor promise much, and nought perform,  
Nor scorn an evil to reform.  
Nor credit every idle breath,  
Nor seek the meanest Christians death:  
Nor hardly use a loving Wife,  
Nor with a Whore to lead thy life.  
Oh be not made a wretched slave,  
To be commanded by a Knave:  
Nor climb a mile beyond the Moon,  
Nor make the morning after noon:  
Nor stop thine ears to good advice,  
Nor in thy thoughts to be too nice:  
Nor with the Swine to dig the dirt,  
Nor seek thine honest neighbours hurt:  
Nor fall into a Lunacy,  
Nor Herezie, nor leloucie:  
Nor have thy paunch and guts too full,  
Nor bear a bittle headed skull:  
Nor hurt thy Soul for any good,  
Nor idly lose ● drop of blood.  
Nor credit Dreams, nor trust to Hope,  
Nor fall within the deadly Rope.  
Oh do not thou transform thyself,  
Nor play the misbegotten elf.  
Nor rouse thyself among thy Bags,  
Nor glory in thy gaudy Rags:  
Nor set thy love on too much ease,  
Nor be a scowrer of the Seas.  
Nor practise craft in any trade,  
Nor count a Hackney but a Lade:  
Nor build up Castles in the air,  
Nor hope in vain, nor yet despair.  
Nor love and care not whom, nor why,  
Nor trust a Friend before thou try.  
Nor come at every Cuckoos call,  
Nor let a folly fret thy gall.  
Nor strive to wrestle with an Oak,  
Nor spend away thy Coin in smoke.  
Nor rob an other of his right,  
Nor lose thine own, for lack of sight.  
Nor let thy Money go for wind,  
Nor foolishly be wilful blind,  
Nor pull up Herbs, and cherish Weeds,  
Nor tittle tattle, more than needs  
Nor keep thy Money till it rust,  
Nor in thy word to prove unjust:  
Nor foul thy Soul with bloody hands,  
Nor hide thy Treasure in the Sands.  
Nor counterfaire a Hand and Seal,  
To overthrow a Commonweal.  
Nor willingly commit offence,  
Nor stand in a foul faults defence  
Nor kill a Patient with a Pill,  
Nor keep a Sick man pining still.  
Nor wear a Feather for the wind,  
Nor stand and weight till fools have dined.  
Nor fleare, and leer, and look aside,  
Nor go on foot while other ride:  
Nor make division among friends,  
Nor coin a lie at fingers ends.  
Not take delight to suck and swill,  
Nor be a slave to wicked will:  
Nor foolishly be made a stale,  
To lose a Nutt, and get a shalt:  
Nor tie thee to a wicked Woman,  
That will be kind, nor true to no man.  
Nor do thou fish for muddy Eels,  
Nor weight upon a Packhorse heels:  
Nor be a Layler to a Thief,  
Nor bar the needy of relief.  
Nor live with an ungodly Shrew,  
Nor of a friend, to make a foe.  
Nor like a Baby, long for toys,  
Nor sort thyself with Girls nor Boys.  
Nor tell thy secrets to a Knave,  
Nor dig up thy old Grandsires Grave.  
Nor 〈◊〉 a petty Benefice,  
Nor make a painted sacrifice:  
Nor make of Gold as of a God,  
Nor be by Villains over-trod.  
Nor ke●pe ● Cock that hath no spurs,  
Nor dwell among a sight of Curs.  
Nor watch a Mole, a Rat, a Mouse,  
Nor break into a poor man's house.  
Nor like a C 〈…〉 t in thy Chair,  
Nor play the hidder in a Fair.  
Nor tell no Fortunes, nor no Fables,  
Nor feed on crumbs at beggars tables.  
Nor break a jest upon a friend,  
Nor dwell upon a pudding end:  
Nor whine and cry▪ I wot not why,  
Nor make an idle sh●w to die.  
Oh do not thou befool thyself,  
To set thy soul to sale for pelf:  
Nor sigh, and sob, and swell, and burst,  
To leave the best, and take the worst.  
Do not thou envy virtues grace,  
Nor seek true Honour to deface:  
Nor play the Rascal with a Rig,  
Nor sound to see one kill a Pig:  
Nor seek a Birds-nest in a Bush,  
Nor drive the Nightingale to hush:  
Nor angle for a huge Fish,  
Nor make a poison of the dish:  
Nor in an Epicurious Feast  
To lie, and tumble, like a Beast.  
Nor snuff and snortle like a Horse,  
Nor seek revenge without remorse.  
Nor join with jews 'gainst Christians,  
Nor live with the Philistians.  
Nor brag and crack, and stamp and stare,  
Nor come where such ill cattle are.  
Nor wind about a Wenches wit,  
To teach her how to play the Titt:  
Nor, if she reed thy paradox,  
Infect her with a pepper Box.  
Oh let thy back not be consumed,  
Thy Periwig not be perfumed:  
Thy tongue be tipped with tattling lies,  
To hide thy spirits miseries.  
Nor with despairing sorrow dwell,  
To leave the way to Heaven, for Hell,  
But if thou seest, and canst concive,  
How Satan doth the world deceive:  
That sin of thee no hold may take,  
Thus to thy God, thy prayers make.  
Oh my good God, upon my knees  
I beg, let me be none of these:  
But humbly fall upon my face,  
To beg of thy most glorious Grace,  
One spark of Wisdom, to direct  
My Soul, the life of thy elect.  
Make me to know thy holy will,  
And be obedient to it still.  
Make my delight, but in thy Laws,  
And keep me from the devils claws.  
Make me to tread the way of truth,  
And honour Age, with gracious Youth:  
With reverence in thy word to hear thee,  
And in my Soul, to love and fear thee:  
To make thy truth, my strongest Tower,  
And sing thy praises every hour.  
Oh scale mine eyes, and clear my sight,  
And show me that eternal light,  
Where Mercies love may let me see,  
Where all the joys of Angels be;  
That I may hear them sing and play,  
Upon their highest Holy day:  
And to their Music now and then,  
Mine humble Soul may sing Amen.  
Oh lay my Heart upon my Breast,  
And with thy Grace, my Spirit rest,  
That all the world within my thought,  
May see a work of Mercy wrought:  
Where Grace hath made a glorious fight,  
When Sin and Death, are put to flight.  
Oh in thy glorious mercy hear me,  
Let never wickedness come near me:  
But in thy grace such comfort show me,  
That Sin may never overthrow me:  
With thy love let me ravished be,  
And long with thine, to be with thee:  
Be thou my King, Oh King of Kings,  
Thy holy hand tune my heart strings:  
To sing a new song in thy praise,  
To end, in never ending days:  
My Ditty be of thy dear Love,  
Where like the faithful Turtle Dove,  
My Music may but mourning be,  
Till I thy lovely sight may see:  
And Soul and Heart may both rejoice,  
When I may hear thy heavenly voice.  
My Sins forgiven in thy good Grace,  
Give me thy meanest Servants place:  
Where Faith & Truth may still attend thee,  
And Love may never more offend thee.  
Oh with thy Grace my Heart inspire,  
To bring forth Fruits of thy desire:  
Give me thy Peter's penitence,  
Paul's Faith, and job his Patience:  
And Mary's Grace, and john his love,  
That in my heart I may approve:  
When all these Graces meet in me,  
What joy my Soul shall have in thee.  
But, Oh my God my Heart doth ache,  
My Soul with trembling fear doth quake,  
That Sin hath brought me in such plight,  
As makes me ugly in thy sight.  
And I (Oh wretch) am one of those,  
Whom thou hast reckoned for thy foes:  
And that thy Mercy will not hear me,  
Nor Comfort ever shall come near me.  
My Prayer turned into sin,  
No Gate of Grace shall enter in:  
But all my thoughts all far amiss,  
Shall banished be from hope of bliss:  
And my poor Soul by sins desert,  
Condemned unto eternal smart.  
And yet again me thinks I see,  
How thy great Mercy looks on me,  
And tells me, Faith may be victorious,  
While Grace will be in Mercy glorious:  
And what true hearts, do truly prove,  
That turn to thee in tears of love.  
In which unfeigned faithful tears,  
Wherein the woeful spirit wears:  
I humbly fall at Mercies feet,  
Where Grace and Love and Glory meet:  
And in the tears of true contribution,  
Thus makes my woeful Souls petition.  
In mercy look on me, dear God,  
Forgive my sins, forbear thy rod:  
Behold my grief, and ease my pain,  
And take me to thy Grace again:  
That I may see that bright Sun shine,  
Whose Glory never can decline.  
Where I with Simeons' joy may sing,  
When I embrace my holy King.  
And Sin may die, and Sorrows cease,  
And so my Soul may rest in peace.   

Who will be wise, let him take heed,  
He give no words, nor seal no Bands:  
He tell no Lies, nor forge no Deed,  
Nor put his wealth in Hucksters hands.   

Who will be Rich, let him leave play,  
Wear bare Apparel, fare but thin:  
And never make an idle day,  
Nor give a Point, nor lend a Pin.   

Who will be great, let him be bold,  
And bear no Coals, for fear thy burn:  
And make a kind of God of Gold,  
And get a Slave to serve his turn.   

Who will be Honest, let him fly,  
The company of Knaves and Whores:  
And bring his heart unto his Eye,  
To thrust ill Humours out of doors.   

Who will be Gracious, let him throw  
His sinful Soul at Mercies feet:  
That Penitence may kindly know,  
How Sins are trodden under feet.   
FINIS.