%ISOlat1; %ISOlat2; %ISOnum; %ISOpub; ]> A Friends aduice: / In an excellent Ditty, concerning the variable changes in this World. Campion, Thomas University of California - Santa Barbara The Early Modern Center Director Patricia Fumerton 1619-1619 Early Modern Center, University of California Santa Barbara Santa Barbara, CA 04/18/2011 30074

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Patricia Fumerton Early Modern Center - English Department University of California Santa Barbara, CA 93105 United States of America EMail: pfumer@english.ucsb.edu

R214193 4 UNKNOWN UNKNOWN a pleasant new tune UNKNOWN A Pleasant New Tune the same tune UNKNOWN The Same Tune VVHat if a day or a month, or a yeare, / crown thy desires with a thousand wisht cotentings MAn's but a blast, or a smoake, or a clowd, / T[h]at in a thought, or a moment is dispersed: Roxburghe Ballads Editor None None None None Information in this section of the Source Description refers to the original ballad manuscript. 1: 116 1: 117 A Friends aduice: / In an excellent Ditty, concerning the variable changes in this World. A Friends advice: In an excellent Ditty, concerning the variable changes in this World. A Friend's advice: In an excellent Ditty, concerning the variable changes in this World. Campion, Thomas Printer the Assignes of Thomas symcock 1619-1619

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<seg n="1" rend="left"><hi rend="italic">A Friends advice:</hi></seg> <seg n="2" rend="left"><hi rend="italic">In an excellent Ditty, concerning the variable changes in this World.</hi></seg> <lb/> <seg n="3" rend="left"><hi rend="italic"><hi rend="bold">To a pleasant new tune;</hi></hi></seg>
WHat if a day or a month, or a yeare, crown thy desires with a thousand wisht contentings Cannot the chance of a night or an houre, Crosse thy delights with as many sad tormentings: Fortunes in their fairest birth, Are but blossoms dying. Wanton pleasures, doting mirth, Are but shadowes flying: All your joyes are but toyes, Idle thoughts deceiving: None hath power of an houre, In our lives bereaving. What if a smile, or a becke, or a looke, Feed thy fond thoughts with many a sweet conceiving May not that smile, or that beck or that looke, Tell thee as well they are but vain deceivings: Why should beauty be so proud, In things of no surmounting: All her wealth is but shroud, Of a rich accounting: Then in this repose no blisse, Which is so vaine and idle: Beauties flowers have their houres Time doth hold the bridle. What if the world with allures of her wealth, Raise thy degree to a place of high advancing: May not the World by a check of that wealth, Put thee again to as low despised chancing: Whilst the Sunne of wealth doth shine, Thou shalt have friends plenty:
But come want, then they repine, Not one abides of twenty: Wealth and Friends holds and ends, As your fortunes rise and fall, Up and downe, rise and frowne, Certaine is no state at all, What if a grief, or a straine, or a fit, Pinch thee with pain, or the feeling pangs of sicknes Doth not that gripe, or that straine, or that fit, Shew thee the form of thine own true perfect liknes Health is but a glimpse of joy, Subject to all changes: Mirth is but a silly toy, Which mishap estranges. Tell me than, silly Man, Why art thou so weak of wit, As to be in jeopardy, When thou mayest in quiet sit: Then if all this have declard thine amisse, Take this from me for a gentle friendly warning, If thou refuse, and good counsell abuse, Thou maist hereafter dearely buy thy learning: All is hazard that we have. There is nothing bideing, Dayes of pleasure are like streams, Through faire Medows gliding, Wealth or woe, time doth goe, There is no returning, Secret Fates guide our states, Both in mirth and mourning
<seg n="1" rend="left"><hi rend="italic">The Second Part. To the same tune.</hi></seg>
MAns but a blast, or a smoake, or a clowd, T[ha]t in a thought, or a moment is dispersed: Lifes but a span, or a tale, or a word, That in a trice, or suddaine is rehearsed: Hopes are changd, and thoughts are crost, Will nor skill prevaileth, Though we laugh and live at ease, Change of thoughts assayleth, Though a while Fortune smile, And her comforts crowneth, Yet at length faile her strength: And in fine she frowneth. Thus are the joyes of a yeare in an hower, And of a month, in a moment quite expired. And in the night with the word of a noyse, Crost by the day, of an ease your hearts desired: Fairest blossoms soonest fade, Withered foule and rotten. And through grief our greatest joyes Quickly are forgotten: Seeke not then (mortall men) Earthly fleeting pleasure But with paine strive to gaine Heavenly lasting treasure, Earth to the World, as a Man the Earth; Hath but a point, and a point soon defaced: Flesh to the Soule, as a Flower to the Sun, That in a storme or a tempest is disgraced: Fortune may the Body please, Which is onely carnall,
But it will the Soule disease, That is still immortall, Earthly joyes are but toyes, To the Soules election, Worldly grace doth defate Mans divine perfection. Fleshly delights to the earth that is flesh, May be the cause of a thousand sweet contentings, But tht defaults of a fleshly desire Brings to the soule many thousand sad tormentings, Be not proud presumptious Man, Sith thou art a point so base, Of the least, and lowest Element, Which hath least and lowest place: Marke thy fate, and thy state. Which is onely earth and dust, And as grasse, which alasse Shortly surely perish must. Let not the hopes of an earthly desire, Bar thee the joyes of an endlesse contentation, Nor let not thy eye on the world be so fixt To hinder thy heart from unfained recantation, Be not backward in that course, That may bring the Soule delight, Though another way may seem Far more pleasant to thy sight: Do not goe, if he sayes no, That knowes the secrets of thy minde, Follow this, thou shalt not misse And endlesse happinesse to finde.
Printed by the Assignes of Thomas Symcock. FINIS.