Thomas was an idle lad,
And loung'd about all day;
And though he many a lesson had.
He minded nought but play.

He only car'd for top or ball,
Or marbles, hoop or kite:
But as for learning, that was all
Neglected by him quite.

[Illustration: The Idle Boy.]

In vain his mothers kind advice
In vain his master's care;
He followed ev'ry idle vice,
And learnt to curse and swear!

And think you, when he grew a man,
He prospered in his ways?
No; wicked courses never can
Bring good and happy days.

Without a shilling in his purse,
Or cot to call his own,
Poor Thomas grew from bad to worse,
And harden'd as a stone.

[Illustration]

And oh, it grieves me much to write
His melancholy end;
Then let us leave the dreadful sight,
And thoughts of pity send.

But may we this important truth
Observe and ever hold:
"All those who're idle in their youth
Will suffer when they're old."

[Illustration]

[Illustration]