The poem
TO whom his mother closely smiling sayd, twixt earnest and twixt game: See thou thy selfe likewise art lyttle made, if thou regard the same. And yet thou suffrest neyther gods in sky, nor men in earth to rest: But when thou art disposed cruelly, theyr sleepe thou doost molest. Then eyther change thy cruelty, or giue lyke leaue vnto the fly.