 | Claraphil and Clarinda |  |
A Blessing to my Creditors.
The Debtor to the Creditor did fall,Crying, Be patient, and Ile pay you all;
With such humility come I to you,
Believing Men, and, with his Words, I sue,
That you'll have Patience, 'tis a Virtue which
Will not Impoverish, but make ye Rich
In Heaven's high esteem, And from that Store
Who ever hath his Wealth, cannot be poor:
You know the Scripture doth these words afford
Who gives the Poor lends Money to the Lord;
Then whatsoere is scor'd for their Expence,
Your Interest, shall be treble Recompence:
Is not this well now? Who would not give all
To have his Use exceed his Principal?
The burthen of extorting Usury:
If Giving get such Gain, be not afraid,
For what ye lend, shall surely be repaid;
I, but you'll ask me when? why there's th' offence
Y'are guilty of, ye must have patience.
Ye tell me, when I say, I cannot pay,
You'll take an Order with me, VVhat, I pray?
You will imprison me, where I shall lie
As much indebted to your Charitie;
This is the way to have God's Curse to sink ye;
But is't the way to have your Money, think ye?
VVill it not make your very Souls to quake,
VVhen I shall ask ye Bread for the Lord's sake?
An hundred hungry Christians likewise lie,
And you must make me keep um Company:
Have Patience pray, if ye do chance to die
Before y'are paid, Ile write your Elegie,
And such a serious one, void of all Blushes,
That shall revive ye, when your Tomb's turn'd Ashes;
Ile make your Names to Men sweeter than Spices.
VVho else would curse ye for your young heirs vices.
But what's all this to Money? 'twill not pierce
Your greedy Mindes, you'll not be paid in Verse,
Nor yet in Prose, I see; you hold it sweeter,
To have your Debt in Money than in Meeter:
VVhy, ye shall ha't: Nay, do not thank me, prey,
Not yet I mean; you know there is a Day
Shall pay for all; and then kinde curteous Men,
In every Hundred Ile allow ye Ten:
The blessings I have kept in store for ye,
Blessings that shall prevail beyond your Purses,
And free ye from Tom Randolphs witty Curses,
May all your Wives turn honest, and your Mothers,
And waste your wealth no more on younger Brothers:
I wish a blessing upon all your Seed,
May all your Children learn to write and reade,
And cast Account well, which, in vulgar sence,
Is to dispose your Pounds, Shillings, and Pence.
May they to Riot never be inclin'd,
Or to the female Gender give their Minde,
But if it happen so, they needs must turn
Their Mindes to carefull Marriage, or else burn,
Let them in Heavens name wed, and never cease
To be laborious for the Worlds increase;
And (though you nere were any) I wish then
Their Children may be Sons of Gentlemen,
Have all their Carriage lie in the French Roade,
To wear their Cloaths Gentile, and Al le mode,
These and such other Blessings, sure will stay ye,
'Las these may come to pass yet ere I pay ye.
| Claraphil and Clarinda | |