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Poem by Thomas Urquhart


Epigrams. The Second Booke. № 32. Our inclination is so depraved, that it is apt enough of it selfe to runne to sin, with∣out any instigation, whereby to drive it forward


OUr mind's so prone to vice, it needs a bridle
To hold it rather, then a spurre, to prick it;
For left unto it selfe, it hardly stands:
But if perverse enticements find it idle,
And push it, then, it (runing on a wicked,
And headlong course) no reason understands,
While at the windows of the eares, and eyes
Temptations enter, which the soule surprise,



Thomas Urquhart


Thomas Urquhart's other poems:
  1. Epigrams. The Third Booke. № 23. Of foure things, in an epalleled way vanquished each by other
  2. Epigrams. The Third Booke. № 7. To one, who seemed to be grievously discontented with his poverty
  3. Epigrams. The Third Booke. № 10. The best wits, once depraved, become the most impious
  4. Epigrams. The Third Booke. № 19. The Parallel of Nature, and For∣tune
  5. Epigrams. The Second Booke. № 7. That men are not destitute of remedies, within them∣selves against the shrewdest accidents, that can befall them


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