[p. 575| 
[p. 577] 
E. B. Reed, 
Soe oft as Man is Angery oh tis sadd 
He’s nott only weake but blinde & Madd 
Error for Truth imbraces & t’wer well 
If dearest freinds from enimys he Could tell 
A harmeless smile or from the eye a glance 
Though vndesign’d puts him into a trance 
And when his fury wakes how oft tis seene 
Frendships most sacred bonds disolued haue beene 
Who doth nott then discerne in sundry fashions 
How Man afflicted is wtt Angry passions 
More feirce then are some Brutes as may apeare 
They sometimes yeilds but he’s in full Cariere 
As Mariners when wtt amazement smitt 
The Pilots voyce in stormes regards nott itt 
Soe men in frenzy ther strange gesters are 
Wild as the beasts & Irreguler 
The flaminge fire w* Passions kindle flies 
In furious sparkes from his piercinge eyes 
His angry face by a reflux of blood 
That from his Hart assends becometh rude 
His haire wt» gastly horror stands vpright 
And euery word he speakes he seemes to bitt 
His hands & feet in ther excentrick Motions 
Breath naught but threats wt rash & bloody notions 
His Lookes soe terrible as doe portend 
A fatal Change vnto his nearest freind 
What must be then’s distempred soule wtin 
Soe vgly outward, but a sinke of Sin 
Of Virtue 
As wel tun’d Musick sweetly seize 
The sences soe doth’t Virtue please 
The Virtuous, force the Vitious too 
Th’admire in others what they should doe 
Those best loue virtue & her lawes 
That most Contemnes men’s vains aplaues 
Vertue alone all Grace inhance 
And she noe vse doth make of chance 
Whose effects are transcent in th’ euent 
What proceeds from virtue’s permenent 
