Swell no more proud man, so high!
For enthron'd where ere you sit
Rais'd by fortune, sinne and wit:
In a vault thou dust must lye.
He who's lifted up by vice
Hath a neighb'ring precipice
Dazeling his distorted eye.
Shallow is that unsafe sea
Over which you spread your saile:
And the Barke you trust to, fraile