When Butterflyes, and Prizes vaine I spye,
In silke wormes labours clad,
That a faire tincture had
From silly wormes likewise: then presently,
I call to mind that
Prince of flyes,
Who though Hee bee a God, not worth a flye,
Wants not such gallant subjects, and allyes.
Man gloryes in the spoyles of wormes, untill
Way for the wormes bee made,
By picke axe, and the spade
For to spoyle him: Hee doth some creatures kill
Meerely to nourish up his pride:
Hee weares the sheepes cast coate: to his vaine will
The Bird her plumes must yeild, the Beast his hide.
Hee seekes th’ Ingredients of the Phoenix’s nest,
To please his meanest sense,
And though a competence
Of some few foote of clay may serve t’invest,
His carkasse yet bothe th’ Indyes can’t
Suffice his appetite: Though Hee possest
The universe Hee still would cry: I wante./
(Ralph Knevet)
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Based on Topics: Man Poems, God Poems, Sense & Perception Poems, Cry Poems, Birds Poems, Pride Poems, Investment Poems, Competence PoemsBased on Keywords: foote, spoyle, yeild, ingredients, wormes, seekes, silke, weares, spye, wante, coate