Why cruel friends, will ye so long
With bitter words me vex;
My name reproach, my virtue wrong,
My righteous cause perplex?

Must still your answers without sense,
And void of argument,
With solemn grave impertinence,
My spirit thus torment?

Can pious lies deserve applause,
By being spoke aloft?
Or do you think them true, because
You humm'd them o'er so soft?

The wounds you give me cruel are;
Your contumelious words,
And sland'rous taunts, are sharper far
Than keenest pointed swords.

God's right t' afflict, him well becomes,
But your afflicting rod,
With pride and passion base, assumes
The privilege of God.