Classic Poem

Should any to himself for safety fly?
The way to save himself, if anywhere,
Were to fly from himself; should he rely
Upon the promise of his wife? but there
What can he see but that he most may fear,
A syren sweet to death? upon his friends?
Who, that he needs, or that he hath not, lends?
Or wanting aid himself, aid to another sends?

His strength? but dust: his pleasure? cause of pain:
His hope? false courtier: youth or beauty? brittle:
Entreaty? fond: repentance? late and vain:
Just recompense? the world were all too little:
Thy love? he hath no title to a tittle:
Hell's force, in vain her furies hell shall gather:
His servants, kinsmen, or his children rather?
His child, if good, shall judge; if bad, shall curse his father:

His life? that brings him to his end and leaves him:
His end? that leaves him to begin his wo:
His goods? what good in that, that so deceives him?
His gods of wood? their feet, alas! are slow
To go to help, that must be helped to go:
Honor? great worth? ah! little worth they be
Unto their owners: wit? that makes him see
He wanted wit, that thought he had it wanting Thee.

The sea to drink him quick? that casts his dead:
Angels to spare? they punish: night to hide?
The world shall burn in light: the heavens to spread
Their wings to save him? heaven itself shall slide
And roll away, like melting stars that glide
Along their oily threads: his mind pursues him:
His house to shroud, or hills to fall and bruise him?
As sergeants both attach and witnesses accuse him.