Nostro elucescis damno

THE Steele and Flint, doe heere with hardie strokes,
And mutuall hewing, each the other wast:
While vnderneath the open Tinderboxe,
Vnto his gaine, consumes them both at last:
And to the backs, when they are spent and worne,
He throwes them by, for he hath seru'd his turne.

So, when the Paisant with his neighbour warres,
They weare awaie themselues, in golden sparkes;
The Boxe, are Pettifoggers from their Iarres,
Who walke with Torches, vsher'd by their Clearkes:
While blind by Owle-light, Hoidon stumbling goes,
To seeke his Inne, the Windmill, or the Rose.