To slight dear JESVS: wilt be such a fool,To lose thy time, thy Christ, peace, and thy soul?Be thou more wise, and more considerate,Thou dost, alas, thy pleasures over-rate.Let's go to th' ballance, prethee, Soul, let's weighThe Pearl of price; make hast, and quickly layInto the scales, the flesh, and loads of pleasure;For honour, all the acts of mighty Cesar,And cast whole mines in too, whole mines of trea∣sure!Add world to world, then heap a thousand more,And throw them in, if thou canst find such store;And see which ballance of them is too light;Lo it is done, and thine's such under-weight,It seems as if thy scale was empty quite.Let's take the Pearl out, and then lets put inAn airy bubble; now let's weigh agin.See, see, fond Soul, thy scale aloft dos fly,There's nothing in't, 'tis less than vanity.What folly was't to make the first compare?What weigh the world with Christ! no need is thereTo run that parallel, thou now mayst findThy self deceiv'd, thou labour'st for the wind.For sin's compos'd of nought save subtil wiles,It fawn's and flatters, and betrays by smiles.It's like a Panther, or a Crocodil,It seems to love, and promises no ill;It hides its sting, seems harmless, as the Dove,It hugs the Soul, it hates, when vow's tru'st love.It plays the Tyrant most by gilded pills,It secretly insnares the Soul it kills.0