%ISOlat1; %ISOlat2; %ISOnum; %ISOpub; ]> TIMES PRECIOUS JEWEL, / OR, / A DIALOGUE between a / YOUNG-MAN and DEATH. / BEING / A Seasonable Warning for Youth to Forsake their Sins, and to lead a Religious Life: / Lest Death Surprize them, and Repentance comes too late. University of California - Santa Barbara The Early Modern Center English Broadside Ballad Archive (EBBA) Director Patricia Fumerton Associate Director Carl G Stahmer 1688-1688 Early Modern Center, University of California Santa Barbara Santa Barbara, CA 02/29/2016 34565

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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

R26317 WHile Youthful Blood is flowing in my Veins / And Providence Prosperity ordains; Information in this section of the Source Description refers to the original ballad manuscript. 1: 1 TIMES PRECIOUS JEWEL, / OR, / A DIALOGUE between a / YOUNG-MAN and DEATH. / BEING / A Seasonable Warning for Youth to Forsake their Sins, and to lead a Religious Life: / Lest Death Surprize them, and Repentance comes too late. TIMES PRECIOUS JEWEL, OR, A DIALOGUE between a YOUNG-MAN and DEATH. BEING A Seasonable Warning for Youth to Forsake their Sins, and to lead a Religious Life: Lest Death Surprize them, and Repentance comes too late. This may be Printed, R.M. TIME'S PRECIOUS JEWEL, OR, A DIALOGUE between a YOUNG MAN and DEATH. BEING A Seasonable Warning for Youth to Forsake their Sins, and to lead a Religious Life: Lest Death Surprise them, and Repentance comes too late. 1688-1688 R. Kell

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 Early Modern Center Ballad Project Keyword Taxonomy advice affliction/ health alcohol Americas animals/ nature Bible/ biblical figures buildings/ architecture catastrophe children class clothing/ appearance country/ nation crime death economics/ commerce entertainments family Featured folklore gender holidays/ seasons infidelity labor/ craft law London love maritime marriage military/ war monstrosity mythology/ Classical news nobility/ court politics/ government procreation punishment race/ ethnicity religious concepts religious figures religious groups royalty rural life servitude sex/ sexuality supernatural/ magic travel trickery/ deceit urban life vice violence virtue vulgar humor youth/ age Library of Congress Subject Heading Taxonomy 2/29/2016 Santa Barbara, California, United States of America advice death virtue youth/ age Ballads, English 17th century Broadsides, England 17th century 2/29/2016 4:42:38 PM XBallad King, Joyce Created XML Version of Ballad 2/29/2016 4:42:38 PM Transcription Supervisor Palmer, Megan Transcription of ballad manuscript 2/29/2016 4:42:38 PM Double-Key Comparison and Merging Levinson-Emley, Rachel Transcription of ballad manuscript 2/29/2016 4:42:38 PM Transcriptionist Two Bell, Erik Transcription of ballad manuscript 2/29/2016 4:42:38 PM Transcriptionist One Schrepel, Amanda Transcription of ballad manuscript 3/4/2015 Checker Kristen McCants Edited Ballad Catalogue Record 2/8/2016 Checker Katie Adkison Edited Ballad Catalogue Record 11/2/2015 Checker Joyce King Edited Ballad Catalogue Record 10/29/2015 Checker Joyce King Edited Ballad Catalogue Record 10/28/2014 Bibliographer Kristen McCants Initial Ballad Catalogue Record Created
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Youth. WHile Youthful Blood is flowing in my Veins And Providence Prosperity ordains; The Glory of this World I here will view, And her sweet Baits will eagerly pursue: I'll search Earths Bowels, cross the roaring Seas, I'll break my rest, nay, forfeit all my ease, So I may but arrive to that degree, As to inrich my whole Posterity. Death. Forbear fond Youth, and be not so profuse, For I am come to bring unwelcome News; Thy tender Thread of Life is at an end, Into Eternity thy Soul I'll send. Youth. What sudden Tydings soundeth in mine Ear? Pray wherefore do you now seem so severe? Forbear a while your Fury fierce and hot, I solemnly protest I know you not; Nor did I ever see your Face before, Depart I say, come not a near me more. Death. I am the Great Ambassador, call'd Death, Who does deprive all Mortals of their Breath; Where e're I come, there's none dare say me No, And you shall feel my power e're I go: Here in my Hand behold my Fatal Dart! Which suddenly shall penetrate thy heart. Youth. Stand back pale Death, do not approach so near My Person now, for why, the Case is clear, That you so soon was never sent to me, Behold I'm Youthful, Strong and Stout, you see: Extend thy spight to those that lies in Tears, For I am Youthful, and of tender Years. Death. Tho' you are in the Glory of your prime, Yet you must hence, 'tis your appointed time: Where is the brave Victorious Alexander, Who in his days was the whole worlds Commander
Where are those Hero's Fam'd in high Renown, Whose Noble Actions merited a Crown? Youth, Beauty, Strength, and Wealth, cannot obtain No Favour from me, nor one Minute gain, For my Imperial power is from on High, God has decreed that thou this day shalt Dye; Therefore poor Mortal, do not think to save Thyself, by fair Excuses, from a Grave. Youth. O tell me not that I this World shall leave So soon, for why, it makes my Soul to grieve; Fain would I live to soar on Wings of Fame, To purchase here a long and lasting Name; With Honour here I fain would be possest, Be kind, pale Death, and grant me my Request. Death. Wert thou Adorned with a Royal Robe, And was Supream of all the Earthly Globe, And many thousand Knees before you bow, Yet I one Minutes time cannot allow; Croesus, whose Gold surpass'd the Indian Wealth, Could not one Minute add unto his Health: This failing, shews all things are Transitory, Both the Worlds Riches, and its fading Glory; Therefore depend not here on things below, But place thy thoughts whereas true Riches flow; Lay hold on Faith, Repent thy Sins, for why, Thy Glass is run, and thou this day must Dye. Youth. Whose Sorrow in the world is like to mine? O let me Live my Actions to refine; Here with thy Dart pray do not me assail, For longer Life let Youthfulness prevail. Death. I never granted Favour on these terms, Thy Youthful Flesh shall make a Feast for Worms; Thy dear-bought Soul shall take its flight also, To perfect Bliss or Everlasting Woe. Youth. That Word of Woe strikes Terror to my Soul, Alas! my Sins are many, gross and foul;
O grant me but a Season to Repent, For fear I am to Endless sorrow sent; I never thought of this my Dying day, But spent in Sin, my precious time away; My former Sins come fresh into my mind, O that I might of thee this favour find, To fit myself for thee before I go, Pitty those Tears that from mine eyes do flow. Death. My Name is DEATH, and can no pitty take, You must with me, and this vain World forsake; Pray was not you endu'd with time and space, Then wherefore did you slight the means of Grace? You knew full well this time would come at last, When as your fading Pleasures all were past; When you were in your full Prosperity, You oftentimes beheld Mortality In e'ry Street where you were pleas'd to roam, Conveying to their long and lasting home; Methinks the sound of e'ry Passing-Bell, Might have learn'd you the way of living well; But now it is too late, and therefore you Must hence with me, and bid the world adieu. Youth. My Dying Minute's come, and I must be Launch'd to the Ocean of Eternity; But yet, alas! my Sins does cause much woe, O that the Lord in love would Favour show; In whom indeed, alone I put my trust, Thou art both Gracious, Merciful and Just: O pardon me, ev'n for thy Mercies sake; And then with Sighs and Tears his heart did break. Both Old and Young that hear these Lines, I pray, Prepare yourselves against your Dying day: The Youngest Person here, for ought we know, May soon be laid down in a Grave full low: Our Lives, alas! are but a blast of Breath, And there is no Repentance after Death.
FINIS. Printed for R. Kell, at the Sign of the Blew Anchor in Pye-Corner, near West-Smithfield: 1688.