Sic vos non vobis: To my worshipfull and kind frend Mr. William Stallenge, searcher of

THESE little creatures heere, as white as milke,
That shame to sloth, are busie at their loome.
All summer long in weauing of their their Silke,
Doe make their webs, both winding sheete and toombe,
Thus to th' ingratefull world, bequeathing all
Their liues haue gotten, at their funerall.

Even so the webs, our wits for others weaue,
Even from the highest to the meanest, worne,
But Siren-like it'h end, our selues deceiue,
Who spend our time, to serue anothers turne:
Or painte a foole, with coate, or cullors gay,
To giue good wordes, or thankes, so goe his way.