University of Virginia Library

Search this document 


XVIII. My prime of youth

My prime of youth, of youth, is but a frost of cares

My prime of youth, of youth, is but a frost of cares, my feast of ioy, is but a dish of paine, my crop of corne, is but a feeld of tares, and all my good, is but vaine hope of gaine: the day is fled, and yet I saw no sunne, and now I liue, and now my lyfe is done.