The Father's good Counsel to his Lascivious Son.  
OR A Caveat against Wenching  
The Proverb old does tell us all you know,  
As crows the old Cock so the young doth crow,  
The Father does chastise the Son for sin,  
And quite forgets what vice himself lived in.  
The Son reflects, pray Sir leave off the Game,  
And I'll endeavour for to do the same;  
The Old Man hearing this with shame amends:  
The Young one does so too, and both are friends.  
Tune of, The delights of the bottle.  
 Father. 

COme Son, you are young, yet I oft have been told  
That in wenching & drinking you're desperate bold  
In running these courses you Ruin will find,  
And troubles create in your old Father's mind:  

Give over betimes then before 'tis too late,  
And I'll strive for to get you a handsome young Mate.    Son. 

What Music is this which from you I do hear?  
It tickles my fancy, and pleases my ear;  
Your good admonition I willingly take,  
But first set me see you those follies forsake:  

For 'tis known at this day 've a wife and a miss,  
The one is your drudge, and the other you kiss.    Father. 

But sireah, how dare you speak thus to my face?  
Your sides I will b●ng if you do me disgrace,  
Suppose what you say does appear to be true;  
Yet sure I should not be told on it by you:  

Give over betimes then before 'tis too late  
And I'll strive for to get thee a handsome young mate.    Son. 

You know I am young, and perhaps may be wild,  
Which makes it well known that I am your own child  
You every day to the Tavern do go,  
And at night come home drunk with a Neighbour, or so,  

And 'tis known at this day 've a wife and a miss,  
The one is your drudge, and the other you kiss.    Father. 

Good Wine is most proper for us that are old,  
It inlivens and comforts our bloods that are cold,  
And to keep a young Miss I account it no harm,  
For a young handsome bedfellow keeps a man warm:  

But youngman be wise before 'tis too late,  
And I'll strive f●r to get you a handsome young mate    Son. 

You say you drink Wine 'cause blood is grown cold,  
And I'll drink, that by drinking I ne'er may be old,  
For he that with Bacchus doth daily engage  
Shall ever be young, and ne'er suffer old age:  

But 'tis known at this day 've a wife and a miss,  
My Mother's your drudge, ●nd the Harlot you kiss.    Father. 

You saucy young Rascal, my neighbours can tell  
That of all other women your mother lives well;  
My care and industry ever was such,  
To give her sufficient, and never to grudge;  

But youngman be you wise before 'tis too late,  
And I'll strive for to get you a handsome young mate.    Son. 

By your favour, good Father, 'tis very well known  
That 'twill ne'er out o'th' flesh when 'tis bred in the bone,  
Therefore I advise you your labour to save,  
For without your good help many Misses I have:  

But 'tis known at this day 've a wife and a miss,  
My mother's your drudge, and the Harlot you kiss.    Father. 

Oh impudent villain! what, dost thou confess  
That thou dost keep Harlots? and wilt do no less;  
Come hither my youngster, for thee I will geld,  
Lest my name by thy Bastards be hereafter upheld;  

Yet if you'll be wise now before 'tis too late,  
I'll strive for to get thee a handsome young mate.    Son. 

I have told you, kind Sir, I have Mates three or four,  
And if I do want, can have more the next hour,  
But if yours don't please you, I'll get you another,  
That I'll warrant you far shall out-frolick the other:  

For 'tis known at this day 've a wife and a miss,  
My mother's your drudge, and the Harlot you kiss.    Father. 

But Son, you mistake me when I speak of a mate,  
I mean a good wife with a handsome estate,  
Leave off those women, and I'll do the same,  
For I find they will ruin Purse, Person, and Fame;  

And if now you'll grow wise before 'tis too late,  
I'll strive for to get you an honest young mate.    Son. 

These words may prevail, if your deeds be the same,  
But first let me see you forsake the old game;  
Turn off your young wench and to my Mother be kind  
And in your own steps I will walk, you shall find:  

For now at this day 've a wife and a miss,  
My mother's your drudge, and the Harlot you kiss.    Father. 

Well Son, a lewd woman's a desperate thing,  
And a Whore to your person much danger will bring;  
Though it does not become me to tell what I've done,  
Yet I now will reform and advise you my Son:  

Now prithee grow wiser before 'tis too late,  
And I'll strive for to get thee a handsome young mate