The Prodigals Resolution  
OR, My Father was Born before me.  
To a Pleasant Mew Tune.  
 
 

I Am a lusty lively Lad,  
new come to one and twenty,  
My Father left me all he had,  
both Gold and Silver plenty;  
Now he's in Grave, I will be brave,  
the Ladies shall adore me,  
I'll court and kiss, what hurt's in this,  

My Dad did so before me.    

My Father was thirfty Sir,  
till Soul and body sund'ed  
Some say he was a Usurer,  
for thirty in the hundred;  
He scrapped and scratched, ●he pinched and patched  
that in her helly bore me;  
But i'll let fly, a good cause why,  

My Father was born before me.    

My Daddy had his Duty done,  
in getting so much treasure,  
I'll be as dutiful a Son,  
for spending it in pleasure:  
Five pounds a quart, shall cheer my heart,  
such Necture will restore me,  
When Ladies call, I'll have at all,  

My Father was born before me.    

My Grandam lived at Washington,  
my Grandsire delved in Ditches,  
The Son of Old John Thrashington,  
whose lantern leathern Breeches:  
Cried, whither go ye, whither go ye,  
though men do now adore me  
They ne'er did see my Pedigree,  

Nor who was born before me.    
 
 

MY grandsire strived, & wived, & thrived,  
till he did Riches gather,  
And when he had much wealth achieved,  
O then he got my Father:  
Of happy memmory cry I,  
that e'er his Mother bore him,  
I had not been worth one penny,  

Had I been born before him.    

To Free-school, Cambridge, and Grays-Inn '  
my Grey-coat Grandsire put him,  
Till to forget (he did begin)  
the Leathern Breech that got him:  
One dealt in Straw, another's in Law,  
the one did Ditch and Delve it,  
My Father store of Satin wore,  

My Grandsire Beggar's Velvet.    

So get I wealth, what care I if  
my Grandsire were a Sawyer,  
My Father proved to be a chief  
subtle and Learned Lawyer,  
By Cook's Reports, and tricks-in-Court,  
he did with Treasure store me,  
That I may say, Heavens bless the day,  

My Father was born before me.    

Some say, of late, a Merchant that  
had gotten store of Riches,  
In's Drininkn-room hung up his Hat,  
his staff, and Leathern Breeches;  
His stockings gartered up with straws,  
 Providence did store him,  
His Son was Sheriff of London, 'cause  

His Father was born before him.    

So many blades that Rant in silk,  
and put on Scarlet clothing,  
At first did spring from Buttermilk,  
their Ancestors worth nothing:  
Old Adam, and our Grandam Eve,  
by digging and by spinning,  
Did to all Kings and Princes give  

Their Radical beginning.    

My Father to get me estate,  
though selfish yet was slavish,  
I'll spend it at another rate,  
and be as lewdly lavish:  
From Madmen, Fools, and knaves he did  
litigiously receive it,  
If so he did, justice forbidden,  

But I to such should leave it.    

At Playhouses and Tennis-Court,  
I'll prove a noble Fellow,  
I'll Court my Doxies to the sport,  
of O! brave Punchinello:  
I'll Dice and Drab, and Drink and Stab,  
no Hector shall out-roar me,  
If Teachers tell we tales of Hell,  

My Father is gone before me.    

Our aged Counsellors would have  
us live by Rule and Reason,  
'Cause they are marching to the Grave,  
and pleasures out of season:  
I'll learn to Dance the Mode of France,  
that Ladies may adore me,  
My thrifty Dad no pleasure had,  

Though he was born before me.    

I'll to the Court where Venus' sport,  
doth Revel it in plenty,  
I'll deal with all, both great and small,  
from twelve to five and twenty:  
In Playhouses i'll spend my days,  
for they're hung round with Plackets,  
Ladies make room, behold I come,  

Have at your KNOCKING Jackest▪     

Printed for F. Coles, T. Vere, J. Wright, and J. Clarke.