I
Mankind is sick, the World distemper'd lies
Opprest with Sins and Miseries.
Their Sins are Woes; a long corrupted Train
Of Poyson, drawn from Adam's vein,
Stains all his seed, and all his Kin
Are one Disease of Life within;
They all torment themselves!
The World's one Bedlam, or a greater Cave
Of Mad-men that do alwaies rave.