University of Virginia Library


462

Eleg. 3.

Chain'd to the brazen pillars of my woes,
I strive in vaine. No mortall hand can loose
What heaven hath bound; my soule is walld about,
That hope can nor get in, nor feare get out;
When ere my wav'ring hopes to heaven addresse
The feeble voice of my extreame distresse,
He stops his tyred eares; without regard
Of Suit, or Suitor, leaves my prayers unheard.
Before my faint and stumbling feet he layes
Blockes, to disturbe my best advised wayes;
I seeke my peace, but seeke my peace in vaine;
For every way's a Trap; each path's a Traine.