Page:Shakespeare Collection of Poems.djvu/105

But ill annexed Opportunity,
Or kills his life, or else his quality.

O Opportunity, thy guilt is great;
'Tis thou that execut'st the traitors treason;
Thou sets the Wolfe where he the Lamb may get:
Who ever plots the sin, thou points the season;
Tis thou that spurn'st at right, at law, at reason.
And in thy shady cell where none may spy her,
Sits sin to seaze the souls that wander by her.

Thou mak'st the Vestal violate her oath:
Thou blowst the fire when Temperance is thaw'd.
Thou smotherst honesty, thou murtherst troth;
Thou foul abettor, thou notorious baud;
Thou plantest scandal, and displacest laud.
Thou ravisher, thou traitor, thou false thief,
Thy hony turns to gall, thy joy to grief.

Thy secret pleasure turns to open shame,
Thy private feasting to a publick fast:
Thy smothering titles to a ragged name;
Thy sugred tongue to bitter wormwood taste;
Thy violent vanities can never last.
How comes it then, vile opportunity
Being so bad, such numbers seek for thee?

When wilt thou be the humble supplicants friend,
And bring him where his suit may be obtained?
When wilt thou sort an hour great strifes to end?

Or