By John Donne
Man all at once was there by woman slaine,
And one by one we'are here slaine o'er againe
By them. the mother poison'd the well-head,
the daughters here corrupt us, Rivolets;
No Smalnesse scapes, no greatnesse breaks their nets;
She thrust us out, and by them we are led
Astray, from turning, to whence we are fled.
Were prisoners Judges, t'would seeme rigorous,
Shee sinn'd, we beare; part of our paine is, thus
To lvoe them, whose fault to this painfull love yoked us.