Justus quidem tu es,
Domine, si disputem tecum: verumtamen justa loquar ad te:
Quare via impiorum prosperatur? &c.
Thou art indeed just,
Lord, if I
With thee; but, sir, so what I plead is just.
Why do sinners' ways prosper? and why
Disappointment all I endeavour end? Wert thou my enemy,
O thou my friend,
How wouldst thou worse,
I wonder, than thou
Defeat, thwart me?
Oh, the sots and thralls of
Do in spare hours more thrive than I that spend,
Sir, life upon thy cause.
See, banks and
Now leavèd how thick! lacèd they are
With fretty chervil, look, and fresh wind
Them; birds build — but not I build; no, but strain,
Time's eunuch, and not breed one work that wakes.
Mine,
O thou lord of life, send my roots rain.
