Ecclesiastes, Chapter 10

Although thy Ruler frowne, yet do not thou
Resent his Anger with a cloudie Brow:
Nor with obedience or thy faith dispence;
For yeelding pacifies a great offence.
This in a State no small disorder breeds;
Which from the errour of the Prince proceeds:
When vicious fooles in Dignitie are plac'd;
The rich in worth, trod under and disgrac'd.
Oft have I Servants seene on Horses ride:
The Free and Noble lacky by their side.
Who snares for others sets, therein shall light:
Who breakes a Hedge, him shall the Serpent bite.
The Stones shall bruise him who pulls downe a wall:
Who hewes a Tree, by his owne Axe shall fall.
If th'edge be blunt, in vaine his Strength he spends:
But Wisedome all directs to their just ends.
If Serpents bite before the charme be sung,
What then availes th'Inchanters babling tongue?
A wise-mans words are full of grace and power:
A fooles offending lips himselfe devoure.
His words begin in folly; which extend
To Acts of mischiefe, and in madnesse end.
He gives his tongue the reines; as if he knew
More then Man knowes: th'events that must insue.
Who in the endlesse Maze of Errour treads;
Nor knowes the way which to his purpose leads.
Woe to that Land, that miserable Land,
Which gaspes beneath a Childes unstai'd Command:
Whose Nobles rise betimes to perpetrate
Their Luxuries; the ruine of the State.
Happy that Land, whose King is Nobly Borne:
Whose Lords with Temperance his Court adorne.
By Sloths supine neglects the building falls:
The hands of Idlenesse pull downe her walls.
Feasts are for Laughter made, Wine cheares our hearts:
But soveraigne Mony all to all imparts.
Curse not thy Rulers though with vices fraught;
Not in thy Bed-Chamber, nor in thy thought:
For Birds will beare thy whisperings on their wings,
To the wide eares of Death-inflicting Kings.