Who, Patience Tempts, Beyond Her Strength, Will Make It Fury, at the Length
ALthough wee know not a more patient creature,
Than is the Lambe, (or, of lesse harmfull nature)
Yet, as this Emblem shewes, when childish wrong,
Hath troubled, and provok’d him overlong,
Hee growes enrag’d; and makes the wanton Boyes,
Bee glad to leave their sports, and run their wayes.
Thus have I seene it with some Children fare,
Who, when their Parents too indulgent were,
Have urg’d them, till their Doting grew to Rage,
And, shut them wholly from their Heritage.
Thus, many times, a foolish man doth lose
His faithfull Friends, and justly makes them foes.
Thus, froward Husbands; and, thus, peevish Wives,
Doe foole away the comfort of their lives;
And, by abusing of a patient-Mate,
Turne dearest Love, into the deadliest Hate:
For, any wrong may better bee excused,
Than, Kindnesse, long and wilfully abused.
But, as an injur’d Lambe, provoked, thus,
Well typifies how much it moveth us,
To finde our Patience wrong’d: So, let us make
An Emblem of our selves, thereby to take
More heed, how God is moved towards them,
That, his long suffring, and his Love contemne.
For, as wee somewhat have of every Creature,
So, wee in us, have somewhat of his Nature:
Or, if it bee not sayd the same to bee,
His Pictures, and his Images are wee.
Let, therefore, his long-suffring, well be weigh’d,
And, keepe us, to provoke him, still afraid.