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Title page of A book for boys and girls, or, Country rhymes for children, London, 1686

A30125:260

A book for boys and girls, or, Country rhymes for childrenA book for boys and girls, or, Country rhimes for children

A book for boys and girls, or, Country rhymes for children by J.B.A book for boys and girls, or, Country rhimes for children by J.B.

John Bunyan 1628–1688London: printed for N.P., 1686

[7], 79 [i.e. 80] p. · 16k words · Wing B5489 · ESTC R26565

Title page typeset from the transcription.

A BOOK FOR Boys and Girls, &c. › Poem 30: XXX. Upon the Thief.

Modern spelling is a reading aid: the words are the author’s, only the spelling is modernized. Original shows the page as printed, with the transcription marks.

[ Earlier:257–272 of 447

:257p. 39

Thy case is most deplorably bad; Thou shunnest to think on't, lest thou shouldst be mad: Thou art beset with mischiefs every way, The Gallows groaneth for thee every day.

Thy case is most deplorably bad; Thou shun'st to think on't, lest thou shouldst be mad: Thou art beset with mischiefs ev'ry way, The Gallows groaneth for thee ev'ry day.

:258p. 39

Wherefore, I prithee Thief, thy Theft forbear, Consult thy safety, prithee have a care. If once thy Head be got within the Noose, 'Twill be too late a longer Life to choose.

Wherefore, I prethee Thief, thy Theft forbear, Consult thy safety, prethee have a care. If once thy Head be got within the Noose, 'Twill be too late a longer Life to chuse.

:259p. 39

As to the Penitent thou readest of, What's that to them who at Repentance scoff. Nor is that Grace at thy Command or Power, That thou shouldst put it off till the last hour.

As to the Penitent thou readest of, What's that to them who at Repentance scoff. Nor is that Grace at thy Command or Pow'r, That thou shouldst put it off till the last hour.

:260p. 39

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Position

Cited: :260
On this page: :257–272
Section: :250–260
Whole work: 447 passages

Cite

John Bunyan, A book for boys and girls, or, Country rhimes for children (London, 1686), poem 30, p. 39. EEBO-TCP A30125.

Or select words in any passage to make an image of them.

The book

Title as printed: A book for boys and girls, or, Country rhymes for children by J.B.A book for boys and girls, or, Country rhimes for children by J.B.
Author: John Bunyan 1628–1688
Place: London
Bookseller: N.P.
Year: 1686
Size: [7], 79 [i.e. 80] p.
Words: 15,599
Catalogue: Wing B5489 · ESTC R26565
Text: EEBO-TCP A30125

Passages: 447
Sections: 82

The author

John Bunyan 1628–1688

PuritansEngland

Baptist preacher at Bedford; author of The Pilgrim's Progress.

Transcription key

•: an illegible letter
〈…〉

:262p. 40–41

My little Bird, how canst thou sit; And sing amidst so many Thorns! Let me but hold upon thee get; My Love with Honour thee adorns. Thou art at present little worth; Five farthings none will give for thee. But prithee little Bird come forth, Thou of more value art to me. 'Tis true, it is Sun-shine to day, Tomorrow Birds will have a Storm; My pretty one, come thou away, My Bosom then shall keep thee warm. Thou subject art to cold o'nights, When darkness is thy covering, At day's thy dangers great by Kites, How canst thou then sit there and sing? ⟨p. 41⟩Thy food is scarce and scanty too, 'Tis Worms and Trash which thou dost eat; Thy present state I pity do, Come, I'll provide thee better meat. I'll feed thee with white Bread and Milk, And Sugar-plumbs, if them thou crave; I'll cover thee with finest Silk, That from the cold I may thee save. My Father's Palace shall be thine, Yea in it thou shalt sit and sing; My little Bird, if thou wilt be mine, The whole year round shall be thy Spring. I'll teach thee all the Notes at Court; Unthought of Music thou shalt play; And all that thither do resort, Shall praise thee for it every day. I'll keep thee safe from Cat and Cur, No manner of harm shall come to thee; Yea, I will be thy Succourer, My Bosom shall thy Cabin be. But lo, behold, the Bird is gone; These Charmings would not make her yield: The Child's left at the Bush alone, The Bird flies yonder o'er the Field.

My little Bird, how canst thou sit; And sing amidst so many Thorns! Let me but hold upon thee get; My Love with Honour thee adorns. Thou art at present little worth; Five farthings none will give for thee. But prethee little Bird come forth, Thou of more value art to me. 'Tis true, it is Sun-shine to day, Tomorrow Birds will have a Storm; My pretty one, come thou away, My Bosom then shall keep thee warm. Thou subject art to cold o'nights, When darkness is thy covering, At day's thy dangers great by Kites, How canst thou then sit there and sing? ⟨p. 41⟩Thy food is scarce and scanty too, 'Tis Worms and Trash which thou dost eat; Thy present state I pity do, Come, I'll provide thee better meat. I'll feed thee with white Bread and Milk, And Suger-plumbs, if them thou crave; I'll cover thee with finest Silk, That from the cold I may thee save. My Father's Palace shall be thine, Yea in it thou shalt sit and sing; My little Bird, if thoul't be mine, The whole year round shall be thy Spring. I'll teach thee all the Notes at Court; Unthought of Musick thou shalt play; And all that thither do resort, Shall praise thee for it ev'ry day. I'll keep thee safe from Cat and Cur, No manner o'harm shall come to thee; Yea, I will be thy Succourer, My Bosom shall thy Cabbin be. But lo, behold, the Bird is gone; These Charmings would not make her yield: The Child's left at the Bush alone, The Bird flies yonder o'er the Field.