Both young and old, that dreadful sin forbear; The tongue of man was never made to swear, But to adore and praise the blessèd name, By whom alone our dear salvation came. Pride is another reigning sin likewise; Let us behold in what a strange disguise Young damsels do appear, both rich and poor; The like was ne’er in any age before. What artificial ornaments they wear, Black patches, paint, and locks of powdered hair; Likewise in lofty hoops they are arrayed, As if they would correct what God had made. Yet let ’em know, for all those youthful charms, They must lie down in death’s cold frozen arms! Oh think on this, and raise your thoughts above The sin of pride, which you so dearly love. Likewise, the wilful sinners that transgress The righteous laws of God by drunkenness, They do abuse the creatures which were sent Purely for man’s refreshing nourishment. Many diseases doth that sin attend, But what is worst of all, the fatal end: Let not the pleasures of a quaffing bowl Destroy and stupify thy active soul. Perhaps the jovial drunkard over night, May seem to reap the pleasures of delight, While for his wine he doth in plenty call; But oh! the sting of conscience, after all, Is like a gnawing worm upon the mind. Then if you would the peace of conscience find, A sober conversation learn with speed, For that’s the sweetest life that man can lead. Be careful that thou art not drawn away, By foolishness, to break the Sabbath-day; Be constant at the pious house of prayer, That thou mayst learn the christian duties there. For tell me, wherefore should we carp and care For what we eat and drink, and what we wear; And the meanwhile our fainting souls exclude From that refreshing sweet celestial food? Yet so it is, we, by experience, find Many young wanton gallants seldom mind The church of God, but scornfully deride That sacred word by which they must be tried. A tavern, or an alehouse, they adore, And will not come within the church before They’re brought to lodge under a silent tomb, And then who knows how dismal is their doom! Though for awhile, perhaps, they flourish here, And seem to scorn the very thoughts of fear, Yet when they’re summoned to resign their breath, They can’t outbrave the bitter stroke of death! Consider this, young gallants, whilst you may, Swift-wingèd time and tide for none will stay; And therefore let it be your christian care, To serve the Lord, and for your death prepare. There is another crying sin likewise: Behold young gallants cast their wanton eyes On painted harlots, which they often meet At every creek and corner of the street, By whom they are like dismal captives led To their destruction; grace and fear is fled, Till at the length they find themselves betrayed, And for that sin most sad examples made.