Page:Shakespeare Collection of Poems.djvu/106

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94
The Rape of Lucrece.
Or free that soul which wretchedness hath chained?
Give physick to the sick, ease to the pained?
The poor, lame, blind, halt, creep, cry out for thee;
But they nere met with opportunity.

The Patient dies while the Physician sleeps;
The Orphan pines while the Oppressor feeds;
Justice is feasting while the widow weeps:
Advise is sporting while infection breeds,
Thou grant'st no time for charitable deeds:
Wrath, envy, treason, rape, and murther rages,
Thy hainous hours wait on them as their pages.

When Truth and Vertue have to do with thee,
A thousand crosses keep them from thy aid;
They buy thy help, but Sin nere gives a fee
He gratis comes, and thou art well apaid,
As well to hear, as grant what he hath said.
My Colatine would else have come to me:
When Tarquin did, but he was staid by thee.

Guilty thou art of murther and of theft,
Guilty of perjury and subordination,
Guilty of treason, forgery, and shift,
Guilty of incest, that abomination,
An accessary by thine inclination
To all sins past, and all that are to come,
From the creation to the general doom.

Mishapen