Raspe playes at Nine-holes; and 'tis known he gets
Many a Teaster by his game, and bets:
But of his gettings there's but little sign;
When one hole wasts more then he gets by Nine.

Jove may afford us thousands of reliefs;
Since man expos'd is to a world of griefs.

Learn this of me, where e'r thy Lot doth fall;
Short lot, or not, to be content with all.

A Wanton and lascivious eye
Betrayes the Hearts Adulterie.

When others gain much by the present cast,
The coblers getting time, is at the Last.

Slouch he packs up, and goes to sev'rall Faires,
And weekly Markets for to sell his wares:
Meane time that he from place to place do's rome,
His wife her owne ware sells as fast at home.

If little labour, little are our gaines:
Mans fortunes are according to his paines.

Break off Delay, since we but read of one
That ever prosper'd by Cunctation.

All I have lost, that co'd be rapt from me;
And fare it well: yet Herrick, if so be
Thy Deerest Saviour renders thee but one
Smile, that one smile's full restitution.

Look, how the Rainbow doth appeare
But in one onely Hemisphere:
So likewise after our disseace,
No more is seen the Arch of Peace.
That Cov'nant's here; The under-bow,
That nothing shoots, but war and woe.