Wee blame the times,
But doe not on our selves reflect,
To view our crimes,
And Sinne the chiefest architect
Of our disasters.
Our optickes tend to distances,
And wee are Masters,
Which things at home doe not redresse;
But all our losses,
Unto our neihboures wee impute,
Although our crosses,
Wee daily by our sinnes recrute:
If Each would seeke himself t’amend,
How soone our miseryes should end./
(Ralph Knevet)
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Based on Topics: Home Poems, Crime PoemsBased on Keywords: redresse, miseryes