| Poor soul the centre of my sinful earth, | |
| My sinful earth these rebel powers array, | |
| Why dost thou pine within and suffer dearth | |
| Painting thy outward walls so costly gay? | |
| Why so large cost having so short a lease, | 5 |
| Dost thou upon thy fading mansion spend? | |
| Shall worms inheritors of this excess | |
| Eat up thy charge? is this thy body's end? | |
| Then soul live thou upon thy servant's loss, | |
| And let that pine to aggravate thy store; | 10 |
| Buy terms divine in selling hours of dross; | |
| Within be fed, without be rich no more, | |
| So shall thou feed on death, that feeds on men, | |
| And death once dead, there's no more dying then. | |