Vnder some hurtfull Plannet I was born
That will (I think) my Confusion be,
And there are many wickeder then I
Who never knew the like adversity.
These words do breifly show a carnall mind
Polluted and corrupt with Ignorance,
Where godly Wisdom never yet hath shin’d
For that they talk of Destiny or Chance;
For if Gods Power never can abate,
He can dispose of that he did create.