On the ensuing Subject.
What more Rogues still? I thought our happy Times
Were freed from such, as from Rebellious Crimes.
But such will be: i’ th’ best of Times we find
The worst of men; the Law can’t lawless bind.
It might be so, since Nature thought it fit
To give some nought but Lands, to others Wit
But no Estates, bestowing such a mind
That can’t within due limits be confin’d.
Hence Depredations, Thefts, nay worser facts,
Cheating & Whoring, with unheard-of acts:
For Swimming for their Lives, these misrules think,
’Tis better catch at any thing, then sink.
Such was this Rogue, esteem’d the worst of men;
Liv’d by his Sword, his Pregnant Wit, andPen.
In short, Pray pardon if I speak amiss;
I never read so arch a Rogue as This.
A. B.