Epigram 14 (Eliza, thou hast spread a goolden peace,)

Eliza, thou hast spread a goolden peace,
Ouer thy land thrise blessed by thy raigne.
And were it that some ciuill wars did cease,
Which in our selues deuided we sustaine:
Betweene the patron and poore minister,
Landlordes and Tenants, raigning more and more.
Betweene the borrower and the viuter.
Betweene so fewe rich, and so many poore:
Ours were the golden age, but these home iarres,
Houses, and fields and states haue ouerthrowne.
And spoyled vs no lesse then foreyne wars.
Thanke we this idle mischefe of our owne.
But who did heare, or who did euer read,
Peace without wars, or something else in stead.