Page [unnumbered]
No Money, no Friend.
The Spend-thrift he, when 'tis too late,
Laments his sad and Wretched state:
And all good Men he doth advise,
That they would Merry be, and wise.
The Tune is, All you that do do desire to play
The Tune is, At Cards, to pass the time away.
[illustration]
[illustration]
All you that freely spend your Coyn,
Come learn by this advice of mine;
That you no more so play the Fool,
Nor Tipple in the Fuddling-School:
For when that you have spent your store,
Your Host will turn you out o'th door.
This by experience I do know,
Who too too lately found it so:
Five hundred pound was left to me,
Which I consum'd immediately:
And when my Money was all gone,
I like an Ass was lookt upon.
While I had Gold and Silver store,
I thought the world did me adore:
For then each false dissembling Curr,
Would try•• your humble servant Sir:
But now my Money is all spent,
Too late, poor Fool, I do lament.
When I was in Prosperity,
Each Top-lath that I passed by:
Would cringe and bow, and swear to be
My Servant to Eternity:
But now alas, my Money's gone,
And Servants I have never a one.
But now if to their House I go,
E're drink they draw, they'l surely know,
If that my Pocket it will speak,
Which is enongh my heart so break:
If not, then he who was my friend,
Out of the door soon will me send.
Oh what a dreadful thing is this,
That I of all my Servants miss:
And those who did me oft invite,
To drink with them, now do me slight:
But if again I Money get,
I surely then shall have more w••t.