Judge BARKELY HIS penitential COMPLAINT: Wherein he laments the Condition of his present Imprisonment, and the late Corruptions of violated and enforced justice.  
WHat wonder's this, to hear a term should be  
Gone off, and yet Vacation still with me?  
That I should own the leisure to rehearse  
My Cause to'th Stones, and plead my griefs in Verse:  
That I who balanced Right, and in her Scale  
Did raise or sink her to make Wrong prevail,  
Should now lie lost to Justice, and infer  
Myself an Exile to her Hall and her;  
Should fear her sentence, and should hide my face  
(Where once I sat) from her tribunal place.  
Judgement proves then most happy, when the Law  
Of Truth and goodness doth the Conscience awe.  
Nor can he quickly into danger fall,  
Who to himself lives a law rational.  
But when the shows of Honour or of gain  
Grow on the heart, and do corrupt the brain,  
Reason doth startle, and th' affections straight  
Prove conquered Captives to that golden bait.  
Why should those thick and glittering spangles, that  
Do dance in glory on the robes of State,  
Trouble the knowing mind to gaze upon  
Their flattering splendours, or to put them on?  
But that's not all; for when that fatal Vice  
(That Turk 'mongst Christians) sordid Avarice,  
Leads her black Army up, and doth begin  
To make the heart an Usurer to Sin;  
Then Peace, Religion, Safety, Justice, all  
Who own to Grace or Honour, humbled fall  
Before that tyrant Fiend, whose ireful doom  
Breathes nought but ruin, rage, and martyrdom,  
Who bribes the Law, and what was made so strong  
To speak our Right, makes Law to speak it Wrong.  
These were my faults, made happy did they guest  
But in one inn, or lodged but in my breast:  
But when that Justice on her knees shall fall  
To beg the Judge to do her right, and call  
Her spotless Ermines to his eye, and wronged,  
Desire that grace to have her Cause prolonged  
Until some happy Parliament should raise  
New strength to her unnerved hand▪ and praise  
Her faint and labouring pulses, make her know  
Holds she the balance in her hand, or no,  
To lend her eyes, and from their gracious tongues  
Infuse new breath to her despairing lungs,  
When Life and Honour lay upon the stake,  
And Justice dumb, while falsehoods tongue did ache,  
My sadded blood sickens to whey, and while  
That Right now laughs, I gratulate her smile.  
That Hand of Justice which I down did bear,  
Strikes now repentance through me, which no ear  
Can hear and spare no griefs, nor passing by  
Can any see but with a bleeding eye.  
Let all my laws be broken, let the wheel  
Of Fortune split, and her attorneys reel.  
It is a glad and happy sin would prove  
Itself reformed to every good man's love:  
Thus much my penitence can do, but this  
Is good begotten from too much amiss.  
Though cold my hopes, and my more sad affairs  
Do pull more winter on my snow-touched hairs,  
I now learn Justice, patient I learn more  
Then ere her Agent I performed before:  
And shall decree what ever way she's bent,  
Just is my fate, as just the Parliament.   

Printed in the year 1641.