I

Mankind is sick, the World distemper'd lies Opprest with Sins and Miseries. Their Sins are Woes; a long corrupted Train Of Poyson, drawn from Adam's vein, Stains all his seed, and all his Kin Are one Disease of Life within; They all torment themselves! The World's one Bedlam, or a greater Cave Of Mad-men that do alwaies rave.