Against the course of nature quite
To take me wynges and saye to flye,
A foole no fowle in fethers dight.
As learning founds and cunning finds,
To such haue wit the same to vse:
So she confounds, and marres the minds,
Of those her secrets seeme t’abuse.
Well then deserts requirde my fall,
Presumption proude, depriu’de my breath:
Renowne bereft my life and all,