Poem I Will Put Chaos Into Fourteen Lines
I will put chaos into fourteen lines
and keep him there and let him thence escape
If he be lucky let him be twist and ape
I will put chaos into fourteen lines
flood,fire and demon his adroit designs
will strain to nothing in the strict confines
of this sweet order,where in pious rape
I hold his essence and amorphous shape,
Till he with order mingles and combines
Past are the hours the years of our duress
His arrogance, our awful servitude
I have him he is nothing more nor less
than something simple not yet understood
i shall not even force to confess
Or answer i will only make him good
