RIddle my Riddle (for I mean to pose yee)
What is it Raiseth yee, Yet Overthrows yee?
What is't That makes Men deny to pay Tribute?
Soar to a
Septer, yet sink to a
Iibbet?
What makes
Disputants keep such a puther,
Shutting the Gates of
Bliss, One against t'other?
What is it makes a Man (by Toyl and Labour,
With all the wit he can) to Cheate his Neighbour?
Least this
Enigma should too much involue Yey,
Extend your Intellect, I shall resolve Yee:
SELF is that
Monster, which swallows up
All-things;
Makes low things, high things, brings great things, to small things.
SELF hath his Sov'raignty (more is the pitty)
In
Church, Court, Country, Camp, Navy, and
City.
What e're the Voyage be, SELF has the Venter;
Where e're the Circle be, SELF is the Centre.
SELF in this season, is the only Object;
SELF is a Sov'raign, and SELF is a Subject:
SELF is a Stats-man, that pleads for Applauses,
SELF would be
Chancelour in his own Causes.
SELF, into every Species can vary,
SELF's
Eccleastical, and
Militarie:
SELF will be medling with Kingdoms, and Crowns too,
SELF can build Houses, and SELF can sell Towns too.
SELF, once rais'd War, between
Swede and
Poland,
And betwixt
England, France, Denmark, and
Holland:
SELF hath a
Seigniory in every
Region,
SELF is of any, and of no
Religion:
SELF is a
Self-seeker, and SELF is a
Shaker;
SELF is a
Prpist, and SELF is a
Quaker:
SELF makes a
Protestant some times to falter,
And bids a
Prisbiter, bow to the
Alter.
SELF hatch'd the
War, and the fatal
Infection:
SELF set the
City in flameing distraction,
SELF was the
Plotter, SELF was
Prejector,
SELF was the
sufferer, and SELF was the
Actor:
SELF was the
Fire-ball, that brought with it's
flashes,
Englangs Metropolis, to Dust and Ashes:
SELF was a Thing made such work for
Repayers,
Which scarce will be finish'd, by
Him or his
Heires.
SELF was a
Person (though not very witty)
Which in that season, was
Spark of the
City.
SELF is a
Serpent, whose intreges are Oblick:
SELF is the ruine of ev'ry
Republick:
SELF is the motive, so many are un-done,
SELF was the Burning and Downfal of
London;
Though SELF (in confidence) thought
He was able
To quench the fury on't, with his small
Bable.
SELF is a
Courtier that seems to adore yee,
And spreads his formal fine saviours before yee,
But if your Suit at
Court, have not some pelfe in't,
[...] there was
Self in't.
SELF is a
Country-man, when
fire enforces
Men to make use of his Wagons and Horses;
When Goods and Money were shar'd in four Quarters,
By
Fire, and by
Fellons, by
Traitors, and
Carters.
SELF was a
Traiton, a
Turncoat, a
Teacher:
SELF, and
Pluerallities, makes up a
Preacher.
SELF is a
Shopkeeper, One that will ply yee,
With
see what ye lack Sir; But gets nothing by yee:
SELF is so many Things, no Man can name all:
SELF 's an
Hermaphrodite, both Male and Fenale.
SELF in a
Woman's the root of all Evil,
And gives cause to say,
SELF is a
Devil.
SELF do
Self-have, is a severe old Sentence;
And SELF doth daily make work for Repentince.
Let him be
Englishman, Spaniard, or
Roman,
When each Man's for himself, then God is for no Man:
And you shall find it true (if well you pause on't)
What
Michiefs e're enfue, SELF is the Cause on't:
SELF is an inlet to every Disaster:
He that denyes him-SELF, is his own Master.
FINIS.
London, Printed by E. C. for T. Vere, at the Cock in St. Johnsstreet. And W. Thackerey next to the Dalphin in Smithfield. 1668.