Till that of late I construed it that they To present thrift had got the perfect way, When I concluded by their odious crimes, It was for vs no thriuing in these times. As men oft laugh at little Babes, when they Hap to behold some strange thing in their play, To see them on the suddaine strucken sad, 110 As in their fancie some strange formes they had, Which they by pointing with their fingers showe, Angry at our capacities so slowe, That by their countenance we no sooner learne To see the wonder which they so discerne: So the celestiall powers doe sit and smile At innocent and vertuous men the while, They stand amazed at the world ore-gone, So farre beyond imagination, With slauish basenesse, that the silent sit 120 Pointing like children in describing it. Then noble friend the next way to controule These worldly crosses, is to arme thy soule With constant patience: and with thoughts as high As these be lowe, and poore, winged to flye To that exalted stand, whether yet they Are got with paine, that sit out of the way Of this ignoble age, which raiseth none But such as thinke their black damnation To be a trifle; such, so ill, that when 130 They are aduanc'd, those few poore honest men That yet are liuing, into search doe runne To finde what mischiefe they haue lately done, Which so preferres them; say thou he doth rise, That maketh vertue his chiefe exercise. And in this base world come what euer shall, Hees worth lamenting, that for her doth fall. Vpon the three Sonnes of the Lord SHEFFIELD, _drowned in HVMBER_