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〈♫〉〈♫〉 THrough humane clouds thy Rayes, Like lightning glide, No prejudice thy sentence swayes, For knowledge is thy judgments guide. The proud my soul oppose, And slight thy Lawes, Help Lord, for many are my foes: They hate me yet without a cause. I never did (thou knowest)
〈♫〉〈♫〉 knowst) these broyles begin, In which though I adventure most, yet I am certain least to win. But oft deplor'd and strove with care t'avoyd, My life such dangers could not love, Better to save than kill employ'd. My other suff'rings far their Calumnie outweighs, who tell the world this War (my greatest crosse) was rais'd by me. Yet this by silence I to men would own, Might
〈♫〉〈♫〉 it their malice satis╌fie, whilst thou my in∣no╌cence hast knowne.