University of Virginia Library

On the World.

The worlds a monster in whose will's a hell;
Where passions Devil-like tormenting dwell;
Where flatter'd senses placed in array;
Th' souls ruine menace, and our lifes decay;
If men do good, 'tis 'cause they ill don't know:
Not virtues principle doth instruct them so.
Who is no Monster doth a Monster seem:
Tis onely prosperous vice men virtue deem.
I thought folly to be wise, none do aspire
To knowledge, things unknown have no desire.
Of darknesse understanding is a pit,
Reason a shop of malice keeps in it.
His eyes two windows, let in loose desire;
Forges of flames, mouth bellows for hell fire.
Where th' veil is rent, which modesty did hide,
While th' bloods inflamed, and the tongue unti'd.
Ev'n remedies turn diseases, none converse
To better others; but themselves make worse.
Garbs, modes, alliance, men like women creek,
Lesse value is then silence all they speak:
Hands Harpyes talons, bent for rapine are;
The Serpents sting he in his tongue doth bear.
Each 'bout Corruption's busie as a fly,
Buz, make a noise, infect what they come nigh.
To virtue scandal, tinder lend to sin,
By th' gate of sense while evil enters in.
The souls surprised in a golden snare;
Coin'd for their profit, mens Religions are.
Poison of Asps within each lip doth lie;
Each face a Vizard's of hypocrisie.
Breast spunge of filth, which should a temple be;
A Den of Theeves, Cage of Impiety:
For Faith doth strong imagination own;
No God but Passion hath, or th' Belly known.
He's a rare man Restoratives can invent,
To make lust live, ev'n where the flesh is spent.
Of raging lusts each breast's a troubled sea;
Inhabited by wilde thoughts men deserts be.
Here th' Vulture envy gnaws upon the heart;
Th' Eagle ambition there makes th' liver smart.
The tympany of pride swels till it bursts;
Of avarice th' dropsie in whole rivers thirsts:
Of hell where Devils and the Furies dwell;
Sure th' prince of th' world with's subjects here make hel.
The world's a monster, Lord, doth menace me;
To Monsters tame's a conquest fit for thee;
The spear which pierc'd thy side may th' monster wound:
Or to thy Cross nail'd in thy blood be drown'd.
What though th' old Dragon threaten to devour?
'Gainst Judahs Lion he can have no power.
Ith' shadow, Lord, of death how shall I fear,
If thou which art my life and light draw near?