Tell charity of coldness;
Tell law, it is contention;
And as they yield reply,
So give them still the lye.
Tell fortune of her blindnesse;
Tell nature of decay;
Tell friendship of unkindnesse;
Tell justice of delay:
And if they dare reply,
Then give them all the lye.
Tell arts, they have no soundnesse,
But vary by esteeming;
Tell schooles they want profoundnesse,
And stand too much on seeming:
If arts and schooles reply,
Give arts and schooles the lye.
Tell faith, it's fled the citie;
Tell how the countrey erreth;
Tell, manhood shakes off pitie;
Tell, vertue least preferreth;
And, if they doe reply,
Spare not to give the lye.
So, when thou hast, as I
Commanded thee, done blabbing,
Athough to give the lye
Deserves no less than stabbing,
Yet stab at thee who will,
No stab the soule can kill.
THE SOULES ERRAND.
BY JOSUAH SYLVESTER.
Goe Soule, the bodies guest,
Upon a thanklesse Errand,
Feare not to touch the best,
The Truth shall be thy warrant:
Goe thou, since I must die,
And give the world the lye.
Goe tell the Court it glowes,
And shines like rotten wood;
Say to the Church it showes
What's good, but doth not good.
Tell Potentates they live,
Acting by others Action,
Not lov'd unlesse they give,
Not strong, but by a faction.
Tell men of high condition,
That in Affaires of State
Their purpose is ambition,
Their practice only hate.
Goe tell the young Nobility,
They doe degenerate,
Wasting their large ability,
In things effeminate.
Tell those that brave it most,
They beg for more by spending,
And, in their greatest cost,
Seeke but a self-commending.
Tell Zeale it wants Devotion,
Tell Love it is but Lust,
Tell Priests they hunt Promotion,
Tell Flesh it is but Dust.
Say Souldiers are the Sink
Of Sinne to all the Realme;
Given all to whores and drink,
To quarrell and blaspheme.
Tell Townesmen, that because that
They pranck their Brides so proud,
Too many times it drawes that
Which makes them beetle-brow'd.
Goe tell the Palace-Dames
They paint their parboil'd faces,
Seeking by greater shames
To cover lesse disgraces.
S
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