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What does the Whale persue a shole of fish?
Whether so fast; no safety, but in wish?
Whether, ah! whether, will ye take your flight?
Gods Arrows fly by day, as well as Night:
No Path's without a Judgment; Do not waste,
And spend your times; bring danger by ye'r haste:
Stay, stay, lest in your hasty flight ye meet
(Your hearts must bring your safety, not your Feet)
The thing you flie from; Judgment knows no bound,
And he that lurkes most close is soonest found:
Can the poor tim'rous game lie hid, or bauke
The furious Talons of the Quick-ey'd Hauke?
The all-discerning eye of Heav'n can see
That ill which lurks in most obscuritie;
And he that hides himself, does but discover
Himself, because Gods Judgements alwayes hover

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And fly aloof; there is no way to shun
The piercing heat of the Meridian Sun:
They must expect more Pestilential times,
That lives in th' Equinoctial of their Crimes;
The Dog-star of our lusts does now excell,
And governs to a perfect Miracle:
What shall we sin, and think our sins shall pass
Without reward; shall we do good, Alas!
(And that we seldom do) and not expect.
To bring our labour to a good effect:
We cannot act but Heaven will sure regard
Our actions, and afford us our reward,
Especially if good, 'tis each mans-deed
That either heals his wound, or makes it bleed.