The moon is the world’s glass; in which ’twere strange
If we saw her’s and saw not our own change.
Herodotus is history’s fresh youth;
Thucydides is judgment, age, and truth.
In sadness, Machiavel, thou didst not well, 35
To help the world to run faster to hell.
The Italian’s the world’s gentleman, the Court
To which thrift, wit, lust, and revenge resort.
Bogs, purgatory, wolves, and ease, by fame
Are counted Ireland’s earth, mistake, curse, shame. 40