Do workes, which earth corrupt, and Heaven hates:
Not one that good remaineth.
Even God himself sent down his piercing ey;
If of this clayy race he could espy
One, that his wisdome learneth.
And loe, he findes that all a strayeng went:
All plung’d in stincking filth, not one well bent,
Not one that God discerneth.
O maddnes of these folkes, thus loosly ledd!
These caniballs, who, as if they were bread,