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 a Wicked man. |
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On a Wicked man.
Lord, what a creature is a wicked man!His life is miserable, though a span:
All his Religion is in outward forms;
His Dainties, Meat, and Manna, turns to Worms.
The Mercies daily that adorn his table
Do prove his Poyson, make him miserable.
If his Estate be large, it doth annoy,
His dangers keeping what he can't enjoy:
Or if he doth enjoy, he so doth use it,
That the enjoyment is but to abuse it.
Luxury leaves him no time to repent,
But lulls him to eternal punishment.
The pleasures of this world do pass away,
But pains and hellish horrours last for aye.
Lord help me then thy mercies to improve;
He is ingrateful gives not Love for Love.
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