Prison-pietie, or, Meditations divine and moral digested into poetical heads, on mixt and various subjects : whereunto is added a panegyrick to the right reverend, and most nobly descended, Henry Lord Bishop of London / by Samuel Speed ...

¶ On Prosperity.

IF wicked men in Gold and Silver shine, Should I at their Prosperity repine? When I indeed behold their spreading Eay, And view their Quails, methinks I'm apt to say, They happy are; but 'tis when I forget Their shining-sun doth with a twinkle set: For when into God's Sanctuary I Once place my foot, I easily descry That all the Blossoms of their splendid Glory Are as dull shadows, meerly momentory; The scum of Vanity, a useless froth, Blasted with one breath of Almighty wrath; External Pleasures, on which they rely, Fill up the measures of their misery. Like the deceitful Salute Joab gave To Amasa; so all their great and brave Bespangled Honour mounts them up in Vice, Only to cast them from a precipice: Or like the Mule of Absalom, doth bear Them to the Gallows, and so leaves them there. Like Jaels present in a lordly dish, It seems to pleasure the luxurious wish; But in the end, when sensual Lusts prevail, The dire conclusion shews a fatal nail;

And very frankly chalketh out the way For a sad Summons to the Judgment-day. Thus their Prosperity doth first betray With tempting smiles, and in conclusion slay. As a poor Ox in fatning Pasture feeds To day, the next he's singled out, and bleeds. What envy will at Malefactors flie, Because the day is fair wherein they die? Why doth Iniquity in Glory flourish, In Pastures large? it only is to nourish Them for the slaughter. Hear the sum of all; Experience tells it, Pride will have a fall. For Mediocrity bent Agur's art; He knew Prosperity doth swell the heart.