A Sonnet, upon Occasion of the Plague in London, Lately Found on a Glass Window at Chalfont, in…

Fair mirror of foul times; whose fragile sheen Shall, as it blazeth, break; while providence (Aye watching o'er his faints with eye unseen) Spreads the red rod of angry pestilence, To sweep the wicked and their counsels hence;

Yea, all to break the pride of lustful kings, Who heaven's lore reject for brutish sense; As erst he scourg'd Jessides' sin of yore, For the fair Hittite, when, on seraph's wings, He sent him war, or plague, or famine sore.