 | Divine poems |  |
Nemo repente fuit turpissimus.
17
No man can straight be Master o'th' Black Art.
Those Evills go on Slowly to their Height,
Which carry with them a more Pondrous weight,
Th' Old Serpent's off-spring never use to Run,
Temptations come on Softly: Men would shun
Their Fierce Approach. Thus Vice Soul-poyson's known
Seldome to have quick Operation.
Thus as in Body, so in Mind tis true;
The Grief's but little, whilst the VVound is New.
| Divine poems | |