Thy thrift-arm’d [288]paines, [289]like idle Pouertie;
For then the time is when th’ industrious [290]Thie
Vpholdes, with all increase, his Familie:
With whose [291]rich hardness spirited, do thou
[292]Poor Delicacie flie; lest frost and snowe
[293]Fled for her loue, Hunger [294]sit both them out,
And make thee, with the beggar’s lazie gout
Sit stooping to the paine, still pointing too’t,
And with a leane hand stroke a [295]foggie foot.