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The SPENDTHRIFT clapt into LIMBO.
I That once was great, now full little am grown,
a mimick of multum in Parvo;
I am buried alive in a cloiſter of ſtone,
ſome ſay it is what I deſerve O;
In what they have ſaid, there is ſomething of truth,
I have been a wild and extravagant youth,
Some hundreds I've ſpent upon Rachel and Ruth,
but now I am clapt into Limbo.
This ſong that I ſing is abſolute true,
then mark well my woeful confeſſion,
It is of myself, give the Devil his due,
for I hope it will make an impreſſion.
On the hard'ned hearts of all prodigal beaux,
Friends let me tell you now under the roſe,
Thoſe whom you have feaſted, will prove your worſt foes,
if e'er you are clapt into Limbo.
My Father and Mother it is very well known,
they left me abundance of riches,
But I was ſo wild and extravagant grown,
that daily I furniſh'd my breeches
With guineas, and then to the tavern I'd ſtray,
As fine as a fop or a fool at a play,
I thought in my heart it would never be day,
but now I am clapt into Limbo.
My Father he let me five hundred a-year,
my Mother ſhe left me her jointer,
And every acre from mortgage was clear,
but I was a bottle and pointer.
