Edward Hake
Edward Hake Poems
A publicque peace our highe Iehoue hath wrought:
A priuate warre, with hate tweene man and man
...
O gold ! that goest in and out,
That rul'st and raignest at thy will;
thou, that bringest things about,
Why art thou absent from us still ?
...
Waking in my bed, I wept,
And silently complain'd;
The cares that on me crept
All hope of sleepe restrain'd,
...
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The Authours Minde Vpon The Matter Of This His Litle Booke
A publicque peace our highe Iehoue hath wrought:
A priuate warre, with hate tweene man and man
Doth Sathan breede. Good state, but life right nought:
Alas alas, what wretches are we than?
A Vineyard fenst, well fenced from decay,
A State preseru'd, but people frowarde ay.
Ah most vnkinde that neuer wyll obay.
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4/26/2024 9:17:25 AM # 1.0.0.1119
