Hymn LIII. For an Inne-keeper or Taverne.
[_]
By the hearing, singing, or perusall of this Hymn, it is
hoped that discreet Inne-keepers will be encouraged
to continue Civilitie and good order in their
Innes; and that some who have heretofore neglected
the same shall be hereby provoked to be more orderly hereafter.
Sing this as the former.
[1]
Most men repute a Common Inn,
For ev'rie person free
To set up there a Stage; where Sin
May boldly acted be.
And when prophane and rude excesse,
Their prizes there may play,
The Civill Guest is welcomlesse;
And wished then away.
2
Inns were to better ends ordain'd;
And better were imploy'd:
For Virtue there was entertain'd;
And needfull Rest enjoy'd.
Yea, though our Calling many scorn,
And brand it with disgrace,
Our Saviour in an Hostry born,
Hath sanctifide the place.
3
His Grandame Rahab kept an Inn;
And blessed Paul thought fit,
His Hoast should have remembred him,
Ev'n in the sacred-writ.
There Sanctitie her lodging had,
With Piety-divine;
Their Inns were holy-Chappels made,
And so I wish may mine.
4
A drunken and a prating Hoast,
To Fools yeelds much delight;
And by his wiles, their needlesse Cost,
Is doubled ev'rie night.
But, him, that is discreet and grave,
A better Lot attends.
He, Credit, health, and wealth shall have;
Good Guests, and heartie friends.
5
For, when a Sober-Guest shall come
Abode with such, to make;
He knows he may, as if at home,
His ease, in safetie take.
But, on the former, if he light,
(Mistrusting dangers, there)
He hides his purse, and all the night,
Doth wake, or sleep, in feare.
6
Discretion, Lord! vouchsafe thou me,
My Calling, so to use,
That, I, by none may injur'd be;
Nor, any, me abuse.
Yea, let mine Inne a Schoole be made,
To teach (without offence)
Those Guests, that evill manners had;
To go more civill, thence.
7
And, though I cannot all prevent,
Which Guests may there misdo;
Yet, neither let me shew consent,
Nor liking, thereunto.
Let me, for no advantage, make
A brothell, of mine Inne:
Nor, by connivancie, partake
In any wilfull Sin.
8
So, at mine Inne thy blessed Son
His Lodging Lord, shall take;
And, there, (much more then I have done)
Him, welcome I will make.
For, not a Stable, but my breast,
Shall be his lodging Roome.
And, mine own heart, to give him rest,
A pallet, shall become.
