Justice, and Mercy ending their Contest, In such a sort, now thrust away the Desk. And other titles come in Majesty, All to attend Almighty royally. Which sparkle out, call man to come and tell How he his Cloath defild and how he fell? He on his skirts with Guilt, and Filth out peeps With Pallid Pannick Fear upon his Cheeks, With Trembling joynts, and Quiverring Lips, doth quake As if each Word he was about to make, Should hackt a sunder be, and Chopt as small As Pot herbs for the pot before they Call Upon the Understanding to draw neer, By tabbering on the Drum within the eare. His Spirits are so low they'l scarce afford Him Winde enough to wast a single word Over the Tongue unto one's eare: yet loe, This tale at last with sobs, and sighs lets goe, Saying, my Mate procurde me all this hurt, Who threw me in my best Cloaths in the Dirt. Thus man hath lost his Freehold by his ill: Now to his Land Lord tenent is at Will. And must the Tenement keep in repare Whate're the ruins, and the Charges are. Nay, and must mannage war against his Foes. Although ten thousand strong, he must oppose. Some seeming Friends prove secret foes, which will Thrust Fire i'th'thatch, nay stob, Cut throate and kill. Some undermine the Walls: Some knock them down, And make them tumble on the Tenents Crown. He's then turnd out of Doors, and so must stay, Till's house be rais'd against the Reckoning day. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE KEEP-SAKE by SAMUEL TAYLOR COLERIDGE AN EGYPTIAN PULLED GLASS BOTTLE IN THE SHAPE OF A FISH by MARIANNE MOORE THE FLOWERS OF THE FOREST by ALISON RUTHERFORD THE FEILIRE OF ADAMNAN by ADAMNAN SERENADE by JEAN FRANCOIS VICTOR AICARD SONNET: HENRY HOWARD BROWNELL by THOMAS BAILEY ALDRICH I COME SINGING by JOSEPH AUSLANDER |