Foly of ploding, and carking for the world.

It seemeth, somtimes strang to me
When I a while do stand, and see

How busily, employ'd we are
Speanding our time, our thoughts, our care

about this durty world, as if
Wee were, for ever here to live

Wher as our life. is but a dream
Or rather like some hasty streame

Which swiftly runs, and sudenly
Is swalow'd in eternity

If reason. might but exersize
Her self, in us, or faith advize

Such fools, and Ideotts, we should not
Sure be, as thus to cark, and plot

How we may gain, a little trash
Which when we have. tis but a flash

That runs from us, & will not stay
Or else from it, we'r snach'd away

The world's a heap of vanitys
A book, that's stuffed full of lys

Ther's vanity written upon
The whole creation, all along

Since Adams fall, thus it hath been
Yet what a bustle, noyse, & din

To we make, whilst in it we live
For that, which it, cant to us give

We look for satisfaction
It is not here, wee place it wrong

No wonder then, we ar deceiv'd
Whilst we ar so of sence bereav'd

To search, and hunt, for that below
Which only from above, doth flow

Here's no contentment, to be found
On earth, if we the creture sound

Wee-find it hollow, empty vain
Deceitfull brooks, we may soon draine

Them dry, the world it doth still reell
And turns about, upon the whell

And when we think, we have it fast
Tis gone, & then our hopes ar dasht

But come my soull, and learn this art
To throw this world, out of thy hart

And fill the empty, vacent, place
With Christ, with holynese, and grace

Whilst others walk, the road to hell
Doe thou above, in heaven dwell

And whilst unto the flesh. they sow
Upon the root, Christ Jesus grow

Whilst others seek for to grow rich
Doe thou att heavens gates, lay seige

Whilst others love, here to commerse
Doe thou with god still hold converse

Whilst others earthly things do mind
Seek thou the pearll, of price to find

Whilst others feed, on vanity
Wind thine affections, up on high

Whilst others, for the world contend
To thou thy hart, to heaven send

Do others let time, run to wast
In heavens way, run thou with hast

Whilst others, they seek for renown
Do thou with speed, run to the crown

Art thou in the strength of thy head
By him thou shalt be safly led

Ther is no rest, but in thy breast
Oh when shall I, there make my nest