In labring long wee reape the crop of care.
4.
Oh darke disceite, with painted face for sho,
Oh poysned bayte, that makes vs eger still,
Oh fayned frend, deceiuing people so,
Oh world, of thee, we cannot speake too ill:
Yet fooles wee are that bend so to thy skill:
The plague and scourge that thousands dayly feele,
Should warne the wise to shun thy whirling wheele.
5.