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The most famous and Tragicall Historie of Pelops and Hippodamia

Whereunto are adioyned sundrie pleasant deuises, Epigrams, Songes and Sonnettes. Written by Mathewe Groue

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Tempus rerum edax.
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 

Tempus rerum edax.

Nothyng there is but aye,
at length doth vanish cleane,
For tyme doth weare away,
such things as earthly bene.
The Rose for all his hue,
the skarlet Gillowfloure,
The Uyolet so blewe,
doe vanish in one houre.
The tree that groweth bigge,
and windeth euery way,


Doth once rot euery twigge,
when time sayes nowe, decay.
The wight that here is borne,
at last doth lose his breath,
Though many wayes he turne,
and would not meete with death.
The marble stone most sure,
that lyeth: vnder feete,
Can not alwayes endure,
but goeth once to fleete.
The king that sits in throne,
with golden mace in hand,
At length shall be as none,
but earth on him to stand.
The house wherein we trust.
though hard as flint it be,
At length shall weare to dust,
a heape of stones to see,
The castel set on hie,
on hill that standeth stout,
Its seene that time doth trye,
and beat the sollage out.
The church that coured is
with lasting lead aboue,
At length time doth ne misse,
his beautie to remoue,
A doore of brasse strong made
of yron or such like,


Time causeth once to glad,
and with decay it strike.
The rock that standeth strong,
amyd the foaming flud,
Though that it lasteth long
time beateth it to mud.
The sea bankes that are hie,
and seene from land to land,
Time wasteth vtterlie,
aye farther for to stand.
The Gun that by his strength
can turrets ouerthrowe,
Time doeth consume at length
his power and might to shewe.
The hil that stretcheth long,
and casteth out his side,
As time doeth come more strong,
then he in fall doeth glide.
The starres that in the skie,
most thick set doe remaine,
Doe fade immediatlie,
when time doth come with main.
The sunne that shines so bright,
shall lose his comely grace,
And shewe no sparke of light,
as time doeth take his place.
The moone that wandreth fast,
and shineth on the land,


Must needes decay at last
when timely power is scande
The world of compasse round,
in fashion of a ball,
At length shall not be found
when time consumes it all.
Nothing there resteth stil
but consumes by and by,
When time doeth shew his will
then vades the earth and skie.