By red, green, blue, which sometimes paint the air,
Guilt, pardon, Heaven, the rainbow does declare.
The world’s a prison; no man can get out;
Let the atheist storm then; Heaven is round about.
The rose is but the flower of a briar; 15
The good man has an Adam to his sire.
The dying mole, some say, opens his eyes;
The rich, till ’tis too late, will not be wise.
The sick hart eats a snake, and so grows well;
Repentance digests sin, and man ’scapes hell. 20