NUMBERED 1-2 (UNIDENTIFIED)

THose men that mischief do devise, Had needs to borrow Argus eyes To look about; a poor slave may By chance lie hid, and then betray. And albeit they shut the door, Having well searched the house before, Yet they may be betrayed; for proof, Jove in a shower did Pierce the roof. Then since that neither house, nor field, To our black crumes can safety yield, Let us be virtious, and not fear What all the world can see or hear. Some men believe too much, and some Conceive no truths by dreams can come; It is a knowledge given to few To find if they be false or true. Found youth to hope, where no hope is, And to be brought to place thy trust On him, that makes deceit his bliss, And counts it folly to be just: Go wash and Ethiop white, and find Faith harboured in a slavish mind. When he that hath received harm, Requites it with pretended love, We must believe it's but a charm, Quick-eyed suspicion to remove. Some may do good for good, few will Be brought to render good for ill. But though some do commit these crimes, Yet let not us believe we may, Only cry out against the times, And be our selves as bade as they: But let our virtuous deeds prevent Both theirs, and our own punishment. LOve built on virtue, cannot be Led by a rash credulity, To entertain reports that tend To the dishonour of a friend. True love is confident, a doubt That slakes loves fire will put out. When men in their revengeful hate Do study others ruins, Fate Acts Justice partly, to let them see They plotted their own misery. It's just that they themselves should find, What they to others have designed. Though they could blind and bribe the law, And keep all witnesses in awe By their great power, though they could make By cunning the whole Stake mistake: Yet can they be so void of sense, To think to cozen Providence? Undoubted friendship having made A strong impression in the mind, Though wild distempers do invade Our reason can their fury bind. Love in distracted thoughts may bear As great a sway as servile fear. A Lover with no ill intent, Will Proteus -Like, new forms devise, He feynes to be on errands sent, And then himself he will disguise Like to a God, Love loves to stray, And seldom keeps the beaten way. But may there not be some excuse? At least to mitigate his fault? That he could not expect a truce, And that he found his own life sought: It hath been counted Justice still, Rather then to be killed, to kill. Within the house they may suspect That walls and beds may them detect, And in the field they must provide, That not a bush a spy may hide. Though in the field no tree, nor bush, Nor bird be near, nor wind does rush, Yet undiscerned a fairy drab Their whole discourse may hear and blab. Our dreams are often found to be Fruits of a wandering fantasy; Yet many times they likewise are Sure pledges of Celestial care. Then as it is a rash misprision To count each idle dream a vision; So it's and error at the least To think all visions are quite ceased. Love wanting eyes, makes all men blind, That to his power submit their wills; No counsel can acceptance find, But such as their own lust fulfils. To be in love, and to be wise, Apollo to himself denies. Is it not strange to find a Trade? Will act what our Revenge devises? To see such formal bargains made To kill, or wound at several prizes? At which those public States connive That do by private faction thrive. As they whose tongues are used to err Are not believed, when they aver That which is true, so when we know A story false in partly, we grow Jealous of all; if truth once touch On falsehood, it is rendered such. But how are these amazed, when they Being about to seize their prey, Find themselves caught, yet do not know From whence they did receive the blow: Like him that hid his gold in hope To keep it safe, but found a rope. If mischiefe-workers would but bend Their guilty thoughts, to weigh the end Of their ill deeds, they would confess, No safety found in wickedness. How can those crimes that heaven does see And so abhor, unpunished be? He whose strong passion are his foes, Is happy in a faithful friend, That will assist him to compose Those strifes that to his ruin tend. A true friend wishes not a cause, But when ther's needs, he never withdraws. But now the fatal time draws near, Wherein the error and the offence Of Imperial will appear, To trust the slave he did incense, And to encourage him to act What he once thought a heinous fact. Ther's no excuse can purge the gilded That murder brings; we must not take Our own revenge, blood by us spilled, Will our whole offspring guilty make: Then let's not blame heavens justice, when Great plagues do light on virtuous men.