Classic Poem

June 29: 73 - worlds deceitfullness

Oh pitifull empty world, & vain
unworthy thou'rt of
The least of our love
By loving of thee, oh what doe we gain
But great pain, & smart
Which reaches, the hart

Who can thy trechery, (world) endure
It is still thy way
to kise, and betray
Thou'lt leave us then, in the lurch to be sure
when we, unto thee
for succour, doe flee

What doe thy flaterers get att the last
when conscience doth nip
thou'lt give them, the slip
When they doe most need thee, then thou wilt cast
them off, and look shy,
with distainfull eye

Thou wilt forsake, even those that doe thee
as their god avouch
and bow down, and cructh
How then should they, from thy malice be free
who still to defame
thy beauty, and name

Thou art but a meer, base Jugle att best
deceiving the eye
by varnish, & dye
Ther's nothing but falsnese, hid in thy breast
for when thou dost smile
tis but, to beguile

If this bee thy triks, then world farwell
I'le trust thee, no more
but get up, and soare
Thou art att best, but a durty cell
a prison to me
from which, I'de be free