University of Virginia Library


60

ODE

[For to perfume our burying]

For to perfume our burying,
All the flowers of the Spring
Doe meet; man flourishes a time,
And these have but their growing prime.
Wee'r set, we grow, we turn to earth,
Such is our progresse from our birth.
Adiew all sensuall appetites,
Adiew ye Courts, and all delights;
The sweetest breath, and clearest eye,
Have no perpetuitie.
As shadowes wait upon the Sun,
This is consequently done.

61

Who'd seek by Trophis, and dead things,
(Like some vaine, ambitious Kings)
To leave a living name behind?
Hoping in bags to catch the wind.