Ev'n thither, where, the never-standing-Wheele
Of everlasting-Tortures, turneth round,
And, racks the Conscience, till the soule doth feele
All Paines, that are in Sense, and Reason found.
For, neither doth black Night, more swiftly follow,
Declining Day-light: Nor, with Nimbler Motion
Can waves, each other, downe their Channell follow,
From high-rais'd Mountaines, to the bigg-womb'd Ocean,
Then, Iustice will, when she doth once begin,
To prosecute, an Vnrepented-Sin.