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| Satyre 3. |
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| Kind pitty chokes my Spleene, braue scorne forbids [65] |
| Those teares to issue w.ch swell my eylidds |
| I must nor laugh nor weepe sinnes and bee wise |
| May rayling, then, cure these worne maladyes. |
| Is not our Mistresse fayre Religion |
| As worthy of all our soules deuotion |
| As vertue was to the first blinded age? |
| Ar not heauens ioyes as valiant to asswage |
| Lusts, as earths honour was to them? Alas |
| As wee doe them in meanes, shall they surpasse |
| Vs in the end? And shall thy fathers Spirit |
| Meete blind philosophers in heauen, whose merit |
| Of strict life may bee imputed fayth, And heare |
| Thee whome hee taught wayes so easy and neere |
| To follow, damnd? Oh if thou dar'st feare this |
| This feare greate Courage and high valour is. |
| Dar'st thou ayde mutinous Dutch? dars't thou lay |
| Thee in shipps, wooden Sepulchers, a pray |
| To leaders rage, to stormes, to shott, to death? |
| Darst thou diue Seas and dungeons of the earth? |
| Hast thou couragious fire to thawe the ice |
| Of frozen North discoueryes? and, thrice |
| Colder then Salamanders, like diuine |
| Children in the ouen, fires of Spayne and the Line. |
| Whose countryes Limbecks to our bodyes bee |
| Canst thou for gayne beare? And must every Hee |
| Which cryes not Goddesse to thy Mistris, draw |
| Or eate thy poysonous words? Courage of straw!
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[CW: Oh____] |