 | Miscellaneous works of George Wither
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Hark! how, the Beames of your own Houses cry
Against you! hark! hark! how the souls that lye
In those Oppressions, which you should redresse,
Roare out, and groan for sorrow, in distresse;
Hark! how your Consciences (though, you contemn,
Their clamours, and in secret smother them)
Call out, to tell you, what sad dooms attend
Your present being, or your latter end,
If you awake not, quickly, to prevent
The shames and mischiefs which are imminent.
| Miscellaneous works of George Wither
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