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To Mr H. W.
Sr, More then kisses, Letters mingle Soules: [f. 25v]
For thus, frinds absent speake. This ease controules
The tediousnes of my Life: But for these
I could Ideate nothing wch could please:
But I should wither in one day & pas
To'a bottle of hay, yt ame a Lock of gras.
Life is a voyage; & in or Lifes wayes
Cuntryes, Courts, Towns, are Rocks or Remoraes.
They breake, or stop all ships, yet or state is such
That though then pitche they staine worse we must touch.
If in the furnace of the euen Line
Or vnder th'aduerse Icy Poles thou pine,
Thou knowest two temperate regions girded in
Dwell there: But, oh, what refuge canst thou win
Parch'd in the Court, & in the Cuntry frozen?
Shall Cityes built of both extreames be chosen?
Can Dung & Garlick be'a perfume? Or can
A Scorpion & Torpedo cure a Man?
Cityes are worst of all three; Of all three
(O knotty riddle) each is worst equally.
Cityes are Sepulchers; They who dwell there
Are Carcases as if no such ther were.
And Courts are Theaters, where some men play
Princes; some slaues; all to'one end & of one Clay.
The Cuntry is a Desert, where no Good
Gaind, as Habitts, not borne, is vnderstood.
There Men become Beasts, & prone to more euills,
In Cityes, blocks, & in a lewd Court, Deuills.
As in the first Chaos, confusedlie
Each Elements qualityes were in th'other three,
So Pride, Lust, Couetise, being seuerall
To these three places, yet all are in all.
And mingled thus, ther issue incestuous.
Falshood is denizend; Vertu is barbarous.