Classic Poem

CHORUS

Can nothing great, and at the height
Remaine so long? but it's owne weight
Will ruine it? Or, is't blinde Chance,
That still desires new States t'advance,
And quit the old? Else, why must Rome
Be by it selfe, now, overcome?
Hath shee not foes inow of those,
Whom shee hath made such, and enclose
Her round about? Or, are they none,
Except shee first become her owne?
O wretchednesse of greatest States,
To be obnoxious to these Fates:
That cannot keepe, what they doe gaine;
And what they raise so ill sustaine.
Rome , now, is Mistresse of the whole
World, Sea, and Land, to either Pole;
And even that Fortune will destroy
The power that made it. Shee doth joy
So much in plenty, wealth, and ease,
As, now, th'excesse is her disease.
Shee builds in gold; And, to the Starres:
As if shee threaten'd Heav'n with warres;
And seekes for Hell, in quarries deepe,
Giving the fiends, that there doe keepe,
A hope of day. Her Women weare
The spoiles of Nations, in an eare,
Chang'd for the treasure of a shell;
And, in their loose attires, doe swell
More light then sailes, when all windes play:
Yet, are the men more loose then they,
More kemb'd, and bath'd, and rub'd, and trim'd,
More sleek'd, more soft, and slacker limm'd;
As prostitute: so much, that kinde
May seeke it selfe there, and not finde.
They eate on beds of silke, and gold;
At yvorie tables; or wood sold
Dearer then it: and, leaving plate,
Doe drinke in stone of higher rate.
They hunt all grounds; and draw all seas;
Foule every brooke, and bush; to please
Their wanton tasts: and, in request
Have new, and rare things; not the best.
Hence comes that wild, and vast expence,
That hath enforc'd Romes vertue, thence,
Which simple poverty first made:
And, now, ambition doth invade
Her state, with eating avarice,
Riot, and every other vice.
Decrees are bought, and Lawes are sold,
Honors, and Offices for gold;
The peoples voices: And the free
Tongues, in the Senate, bribed bee.
Such ruine of her manners Rome
Doth suffer now, as shee's become
(Without the Gods it soone gaine-say)
Both her owne spoiler, and owne prey.
So, Asia ,'art thou cru'lly even
With us, for all the blowes thee given;
When we, whose vertue conquer'd thee,
Thus, by thy vices, ruin'd bee.