Lxiii. A Motive To Patience Poem by Ellis Walker

If any strive to injure, or defame
Your honour, filching from you your good name;
Consider, he believes this blame your due,
That he doth only what he ought to do:
For 'tis a thing impossible, that he
Should so in sentiments with you agree,
As not to follow his own bent of mind,
And that to which his judgment is inclin'd.
Now if through carelessness he judge amiss,
He suffers most, and all the harm is his.
He truly suffers most, whose reason's light
Is clouded o'er, whom error doth benight;
He the affront to his own reason gives,
Who thinks wrong right, who falshoods truths believes.
Then why should his mistakes your soul torment?
His own mistakes are his own punishment;
He wrongs his judgment, not the truth, or you,
You still are guiltless, still what's truth is true;
Still 'tis a certain truth (whate'er he say)
That whensoe'er the sun appears, 'tis day.
And thus prepar'd, you patiently may bear
His rudeness, and unmov'd his slanders hear,
And calmly answer, that such things to him
Fit to be done, fit to be said, may seem.