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Flamma sine Fumo

or, poems without fictions. Hereunto are annexed the Causes, Symptoms, or Signes of several Diseases with their Cures, and also the diversity of Urines, with their Causes in Poetical measure. By R. W. [i.e. Rowland Watkyns]

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The Hypocrite
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
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The Hypocrite

Monumentum speciosum.

The Hypocrite, his face, his words, his mind
Into a thousand forms and shapes can wind:
This weather-cock with every blast can turn,
And he had rather change his faith, than burn:
He cares not how, so he may fill his dish,
He can in cleer, and troubled waters fish.
He love protests, where he doth deadly hate;
His words will run like oil, and break your pate.
If men do hunt the Fox, he'll shout and cry,
'Tis fit the Fox, which kill'd the lambs, should die:
But if the Fox sits in the chair of State,
The Fox shall have his love, the Lamb his hate.
If here the Turk should reign, this man alone
Would sell his Bible for an Alcharon.
I'll speak no more of dung; my heart is free
From the base leaven of Hypocrisie.