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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On Drunkenness. |
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On Drunkenness.
This is a Vice that fights without defence;He that doth finde this sin, doth loose his sense.
I formerly have read of one who stood
Amaz'd, as lost within a spatious Wood,
When in one Vice he was to build his Nest,
Which of these three he judg'd to be the best;
To kill his Father, Mother to beguile
With lust, or rather to be drunk a while.
He thinking Drunkenness the least of these,
Chose that, thereby God's Justice to appease.
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And when got drunk, acted the other two.
The juicy Vine doth to us ev'ry year,
Three sorts of Grapes at once most duly bear.
The first for Pleasure, Drunkenness the next,
The third for Misery. When man's perplext
With too much drink, he is as one deceast,
A shape of man, more properly a beast.
If all our Trees were Pens, and Seas were Ink,
They could not write the mischiefs done by Drink.
Awake, ye Drunkards, weep, and howl;
Poyson encompasseth your Bowl.
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