And 'tis a moody Age, as many guess,
When some with busie Fears still forward press;
As 'tis Ambitions oft-deluding Cheat
To tempt Mens aims, secureless of defeat.
_Hushai_ the Compass of th'_Exchequer_ guides,
Propense enough unto the North besides:
As what can steady Stations more allure,
Than such, a Princely Bed does first secure?
Whose Part none are so ignorant to ask,
And does no less employ his Ends and Task.
But quitting these, we must for Prospect pass
To gaping _Amiell_, as reflects our Glass.
The _Him_ indeed of his own *Western Dome,
[Sidenote: _See his_, p. 27.]
So near his praiseful Poet Sense may come:
For *_Amiell_, _Amiell_, who cannot endite
[Sidenote: _See his_, p. 28.]
Of his _Thin_ Value won't disdain to write?
The very _Him_ with Gown and Mace did rule
The _Sanedrim_, when guided by a Fool.
The _Him_ that did both Sense and Reason shift,
That he to gainful Place himself might lift.
The very _Him_ that did adjust the Seed
Of such as did their Votes for Money breed.
The Mighty _Him_ that frothy Notions vents,
In hope to turn them into Presidents.
The _Him_ of _Hims_, although in Judgment small,
That fain would be the biggest at _Whitehall_.
The He that does for Justice Coin postpone,
As on Account may be hereafter shown.