Edward Farr, ed. Select Poetry of the Reign of Queen Elizabeth. 1845.
A Sonnet of a Slaunderous TongueLXXXIX. James Yates
O
Yet is there none like to a slaunderous tongue;
Which brings debate, and filles each heart with spights,
And enemy is as well to old as young.
In my conceipt they doe more hurte, I sweare,
Then stinking toades, that loathsome are to sighte.
For why? Such tongues cannot conceale and beare,
But vtter forth that which workes most despite.
They do more hurt then casting pooles in meade,
Which doe turne up the blacke earth on the greene:
Their poysoned speach doth serue in little steade;
They practise spite, as dayly it is seene.
O Lorde, I pray from singlenesse of heart,
Such slanderous tongues reforme, and eke conuert.