TO be a Prisner, hated, loathd, and scornd,
|
With unlamented Plagues, thy Fall unmournd,
|
Under approaching Torments keenest Dread,
|
And midst a shouting Crowd unpitied led
|
To meet a shameful Death, would seem t atone
|
All horrid Villanies except thy own:
|
But they so numerous, great and loud appear,
|
They dull Repentance, as they heighten Fear.
|
Curst by your King, your Countrey, and, it seems,
|
Youre Curst too by your own Prophetick Dreams:
|
Curst in your Novice Years and Indigence,
|
When Railing was your Law and Eloquence.
|
And Curst ere since for Fraud and Bribery,
|
Lying, Partiality, and Perjury:
|
Curst by all People prosprous and forlorn,
|
And will be Curst by Thousands yet unborn.
|
Curst by the Just and Virtuous, and whats worse,
|
You have your Fathers and your Childrens Curse.
|
Legions of Ghosts youve murderd will appear,
|
And whisper on the Gallows in your Ear,
|
Your byast Judgments givn against the Good,
|
That you might reek in Money and in Blood.
|
The Tyrant when Perillus brought his Bull,
|
Made the Inventor prove the first sad Howl.
|
Your Whipping so (tho late) should well be tryd
|
(Which you found out) upon your bleeding Hide.
|
And thus Condemnd youll be rewarded well,
|
With Pillry, Carts Tail, Gibbets, Flames and Hell.
|
And with your Quarters hurld into your Grave,
|
Let this be wrote, I was both Fool and Knave,
|
To Law and Drink a Scandal and a Slave.
|