|
| Is man now, then before he was, he was, [f. 44v] |
| Nothing for vs wee are for nothing fitt |
| Chance or ourselves still disproportōn it, |
| Wee haue noe power, noe will, noe sense, I lye |
| I should not then, thus feele this misery,| |
|
| To Mr Rowland Woodward |
|
| Like one who in her third widdowhead doth profess |
| Herself a Nunne, tied to retirednes, |
| So affects my muse, now a chast fallownes; |
|
| Since Shee to few, yett too too many hath showne |
| How love songe-weedes, & Satyrique thornes are growne |
| Where seedes of better artes, weare early sowne| |
|
| Though to vse and love poetry, to me |
| Betrothd to noe one art, be no Adultery |
| Omissions of good, ill, as ill deeds be| |
|
| For though to vs it seeme, & be light and thinn |
| Yett in those faithfull scales, where God throwes in |
| Mens workes, Vanity wages as much as sin.|
|
[CW: om] |