Vpon the trouble some times.

O! Times most bad,
Without the scope
Of hope
Of better to be had!

Where shall I goe,
Or whither run
To shun
This publique overthrow?

No places are
(This I am sure)
Secure
In this our wasting Warre.

Some storms w'ave past;
Yet we must all
Down fall,
And perish at the last.