Why doth a living man complain,
When for his sins he punished is?
Since his complaint is all in vain
And he no ease obtains by this
But rather adds new torments to the sore,
And by impatience makes his sufferings more.

So have I seen i' th fowler's gin,
A bird by striving out to get,
The faster hath entangled bin,
And ne're could scape out of the net;
Were he awhile but quiet, he might spy
Perhaps some hole or other through to fly.

But man of all things hath least cause
To murmur or complain at all,
Since by oft breaking of God's Lawes
He justly in this toil doth fall.
For sin and suffering are correlatives,
A malefactor well deserves his gyves.

A mercy 'tis that he yet lives,
And hopes a parden he may have,
Not so much favour the Law gives,
It's the Law-giver's part to save.
He ought not to complain, but to be glad,
Whiles he's alive and pardon may be had.

When Thou chastizest me, Lord!
And for my sin dost make me smart,
I'll not return an angry word,
But take it from Thee in good part;
Since Thou exactest of me less then I
Deservèd have for mine iniquity.