Book II, 75: On PROSPER

Take heed, thou prosp'rous sinner, how thou liv'st
In Sin, and thriv'st;
Thou, that dost flourish in thy heapes of gold,
And summes untold;
Thou, that hadst never reason to complaine
Of Crosse, or paine.
Whose unafflicted Conscience never found
Nor Check, nor Wound.
Beleeve it, Prosper, thy deceitfull Lease
Allowes thee neither wealth, nor Ioy, nor Peace.
Thy golden heapes are nothing but the price
Of Paradise;
Thy Flattering pleasures, and thy ayrie oyes,
But painted Toyes;
Thy peacefull Conscience is but like a Dogge,
Tyed in a Clogge;
Beleeve it, Prosper, thy deceitfull Lease
Allowes thee neither Wealth, nor Ioy, nor Peace:
Thy heapes of Gold will stand thee in no steed,
At greatest need;
Thy Epty Pleasures, will convert thy laughter,
To groanes, hereafter.
Thy silent Conscience, when enlarg'd, will roare,
And rage the more:
Beleeve it, Prosper, thy deceitfull Lease,
Affords thee neither Wealth, nor Ioy, nor Peace.