Classic Poem

Of the Booke

I N minde beholding (with the which I see)
The two-fold Hyre of those that publish Bookes,
Most good, if good, most bad if bad they bee
Assigned by Him that all Mens workes ore-lookes:
And how some weene (and weene as Wisedome would)
Saint Paules Epistles dayly Soules conuerting,
In Heau'n inuest him with new Crownes of gold,
When others, whose leawd Bookes Soules stil peruerting
Are euer plagu'd with fresh supply of paines,
Eu'n as the harmes they do, do still increase:
Which Harmes (like hammers) hamerd so my Braines
That from my purpose I resolu'd to cease:
But when I thought how much a smart Reproofe
With men preuailes, from faults them to deterre:
I thought these Bobs might serue for somes behoofe,
Whose vitious manners stray from Vertue farre
But yet, Reproofe should shunne all publike shame,
If sacred Lawes of Loue were well obseru'd:
Its true (most true) and I checke none by name,
But shew, vnseene, the shame they haue deseru'd:
Then come what will, it's out : (Fates speed it well )
Hanging in Iudgement's Scoles, t'wixt Heau'n and Hell .