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Nor is't a wonder, as some do suppose,
My youth so much corruption can disclose;
Since every day the sun doth light mine eyes,
I am informed of new villainies;

But it is rather to be wondered how

I either can, or dare be honest now.

And though again there be some others rage, That I should dare (so much above mine age) Thus censure each degree, both young and old, I see not wherein I am over-bold;

For if I have been plain with Vice, I care not: There's nought that I know good, and can, and dare not;

Only this one thing doth my mind deter,
Even a fear (through ignorance) to err.

But oh! knew I, what thou would'st well approve,
Or might the small'st respect within thee move,
So in the sight of God it might be good,
And with the quiet of my conscience stood,
(As well I know thy true integrity
Would command nothing against piety)
There's nought so dangerous, or full of fear,
That for my Sovereign's sake I would not dare.
Which good belief, would it did not possess thee,
Provided some just trial might re-bless me ;
Yea, though awhile I did endure the gall
Of thy displeasure in this loathsome thrall.

For notwithstanding in this place I lie
By the command of that authority,

Of which I have so much respective care,
That in mine own (and just) defence I fear
To use the free speech that I do intend,
Lest ignorance or rashness should offend,
Yet is my meaning and my thought as free
From wilful wronging of thy laws or thee,
As he to whom thy place and person's dearest,
Or to himself that finds his conscience clearest.
If there be wrong, 'tis not my making it :,
All the offence is some's mistaking it.

And is there any justice born of late,

Makes those faults mine which others perpetrate? What man could ever any age yet find,

That spent his spirits in this thankless kind, Shewing his meaning, to such words could tie it, That none could either wrong or mis-apply it. Nay, your own laws, which (as you do intend) In plain'st and most effectual words are penn'd, Cannot be fram'd so well to your intent,

But some there be will err from what you meant. And yet, alas! I must be tied unto

What never any man before could do.

Must all I speak, or write, so well be done

That none may pick more meanings thence than one?

Then all the world, I hope, will leave disunion,
And every man become of one opinion.

But since some may, what care soe'er we take,
Divers constructions of our writings make,
The honest readers ever will conceive
The best intentions, and all others leave.
Chiefly in that, where I fore-hand protest
My meaning ever was the honestest ;
And if I say so, what is he may know
So much as to affirm it was not so?

Sit other men so near my thoughts to shew it,
Or is
that all know it?

my heart so open
Sure if it were, they would no such things see,
As those whereof some have accused me.
But I care less how it be understood,

Because the heav'ns know my intent was good.
And if it be so, that my too-free rhymes
Do much displease the world and these bad times,
'Tis not my fault; for had I been employ'd
In something else, all this had now been void.
Or if the world would but have granted me
Wealth, or affairs whereon to busy me,
I now unheard of, peradventure then,
Had been as mute as some rich clergyman.

But they are much deceiv'd, that think my mind

Will e'er be still, while it can doing find;

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Or that unto the world so much it leans,
As to be curtail'd for default of means..
No, though most be, all spirits are not earth,
Nor suiting with the fortunes of their birth.
My body's subject unto many powers,
But my soul's as free, as is the Emperor's;
And though to curb her in I oft assay,
She'll break int' action, spite of dirt and clay.
And is't not better then to take this course,
Than fall to study mischiefs and do worse?
I say she must have action, and she shall;
For if she will, how can I do withall?
And let those, that o'er-busy think me, know,
He made me, that knew why, he made me so.
And though there's some that say my thoughts do fly
A pitch beyond my state's sufficiency;

My humble mind, I give my Saviour thank,
Aspires nought yet above my fortune's rank.
But say it did, will't not befit a man

To raise his thoughts as near Heav'n as he can ?
Must the free spirit tied and curbed be,
According to the body's poverty?

Or can it ever be so subject to

Base change, to rise, and fall, as fortunes do? Men born to noble means, and vulgar minds, Enjoy their wealth; and there's no law that binds

Such to abate their substance, though their pates
Want brains, and they worth to possess such states.
So God to some doth only great minds give,
And little other means whereon to live.

What law or conscience then shall make them smother

Their spirit, which is their life, more than other
To bate their substance? Since if 'twere confest,
That a brave mind could ever be supprest,
Were't reason any should himself deprive

Of what, the whole world hath not power to give?
For wealth is common, and fools get it too;
When to give spirit's more than Kings can do.
I speak not this, because I think there be
More than the ordinariest gifts in me,

But against those, who think I do presume
On more than doth befit me to assume;

Or would have all, whom Fortune bars from store,
Make themselves wretched, as she makes them poor;
And 'cause in other things she is unkind,

Smother the matchless blessings of their mind;
Whereas (although her favours do forsake them)
Their minds are richer than the world can make
them.

Why should a good attempt disgraced seem,
Because the

person is of mean esteem ?

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