Prison-Pietie or, Meditations Divine and Moral. Digested into Poetical Heads, On Mixt and Various Subjects. Whereunto is added A Panegyrick to The Right Reverend, and most Nobly descended, Henry, Lord Bishop of London. By Samuel Speed, Prisoner in Ludgate, London |
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The Check. |
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The Check.
Peace, rebel Sin, and dare not to rebel,For thou art dead
Without the Law; and thou that cam'st from Hell
Art Captive led.
How durst thou say to him that dwells on high,
The Holy One,
Look on the World where all my wealth doth lie?
'Tis all as none.
Or yet, how durst thou say unto the Christ,
If there be none
Like thee, or if by thee men do subsist,
Make bread of stone?
I read, the sting of Death is sin; but yet
Sin, that came first;
Poor Infant-man no sooner on his feet,
But fell, and burst.
'Tis said, that sin the Child is of the Devil;
But sin, thou art
His elder, and the very self-same evil
Caus'd him to start.
Then prithee say,
What is thy name? for Death and Devil, they,
Right understood,
Are both too good.
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