Whose total Subftance, all his Hopes to boot,
Was never worth the Truft of fuch a Sute.
What fhould I fay of this unequal Lot?
Would God thus have it? furely I think not:
Though fome Diftinctions he would have to be,
Yet not in fuch a terrible Degree.
He would not have thee fee thy Brother pine,
But him fuftain'd from that Excefs of thine.
If for thy felf thy whole Endeavours tend,
If what thou haft thou wouldst be thine Heir and spend,
Then know like that rich Glutton thou maift crave
A Drop and be deny'd; because he gave
Not to the needy Crums that did belong,
Drops were deny'd him for to cool his Tongue.
This Year there hath appear'd a ftreaming Star
Within our native Hemisphere or Clime,
But whether it brings us News of Peace or War,
Of Plague or Famine, who is't can divine?
Though fome interpret it to Change of State,
Hoftile Invasion, or fome great Man's End;
Rumours of Wars here landed to us late,
Or like particulars that they intend:
But fince the Character hath fuch a Letter,
Let's fear the worst of our Sins, and make us better,
And to no other Ends interpret it;
For in the fame there's Matter under-hill'd,
Which fhall not to our Knowledge be made plain,
Till the Portent and Purpose be fulfill'd,
For never came fuch Meffengers in vain.
Howe'er with Meeknefs let us kifs the Rod,
Hoping the beft, yet leaving all to God.