Wilt thou set thine eyes upon that which is not? for riches make themselves wings,
they flie away as an Eagle.
1
False world, thou ly'st: Thou canst not lend
The least delight:
Thy favours cannot gaine a Friend,
They are so sleight:
Thy morning pleasure makes an end
To please at night:
Poore are the wants that thou supply'st,
And yet thou vaunt'st, and yet thou vy'st
With heav'n; Fond earth thou boasts; False world thou ly'st.
2
Thy babbling Tongue tels golden Tales
Of endlesse Treasure;
Thy bounty offers easie sales
Of lasting Pleasure;
Thou asks thy Consciencce what she ayles,
And swear to ease her;
There's none can want where thou supply'st;
There's none can give where thou deny'st:
Alas, fond world thou boasts; false world thou ly'st.
3
What well advised eare regards
What earth can say?
Thy worlds are Gold, but thy rewards
Are painted Clay;
Thy cunning can but pack the Cards:
Thou canst not play:
Thy game at weakest, still thou vy'st;
If seen, and then revy'd, deny'st;
Thou art not what thou seem'st: False world thou ly'st.
4
Thy tinsill boosome seems a Mint
Of new-coynd treasure;
A Paradise, that has no stint,
No change, no measure;
A painted Cask, but nothing in't
Nor wealth nor pleasure:
Vaine earth! that falsly thus comply'st
With man; Vaine man! that thus rely'st
On earth: Vaine man thou dot'st: Vaine earth thou ly'st.
5
What meane dull soules, in this high measure
To haberdash
In earths base wares, whose greatest treasure
Is drosse and trash?
The height of whose enchaunting pleasure
Is but a Flash?
Are these the Goods that thou supply'st
Us mortals with? Are these the high'st
Can these bring cordiall peace? False world thou ly'st.
PET. BLES.
This world is deceitfull; Her end is doubtfull; Her conclusion is horrible;
Her Judge is terrible; And her punishment is intolerable.
S. AUGUST. lib. Confess.
The vaine glory of this world is a deceitfull sweetnesse, a fruitlesse
labour, a perpetuall care, a dangerous honour; Her beginning is without
providence, and her end not without repentance.
